In the Fool's Court
by Snowyflakes
Summary: Everything seems to go awry after Zelda gets married, and Husband's making a mess of the state. With the country torn, Zelda must go into hiding with her fool, and only hope, Link. Can they usurp her husband before the whole country is destroyed?
1. Wasting Good Wine

- In the Fool's Court -

Wasting Good Wine

I laugh heartily at another one of his delightful jokes as entertains the court and its guests. I call out to him and request that he play and sing us some of his jolly songs that I personally quite enjoy. He smiles sheepishly at my request, and I give him a motion of encouragement among the many cheers of approval from the court.

Red trickles across his face as he picks up his lute and skillfully plays a soft, but quick song. The sound is like that of rainbow crystals, sparkling in the dark night by the dimness of a hearty fire that we all crowd around. The music flows with the smoothness of a pearl and it makes my heart sigh with delight. Coupled with his voice, a certain harshness is added to it, a lovely dissonance. His voice brings out the breaking lyrics and intertwines with the woeful, beautiful sound vibrating from the lue.

When it ends, a thunder of applause erupts from all of us seated at the table at his performance. I can see his face flush all over again, and he looks down to the ground, rubbing the back of his neck humbly. I smile genuinely at him and shout with my own applause, "Brava, Link!"

He looks up at me and that wry grin that I so often see, and secretly admire, stretches on his face. I can tell that he is pleased that he did not disappoint me.

"Link! Come, come! Sit with us now, my dear Lumière. Have some food, it is especially delicious tonight, and I think you will be quite pleased with the selection," I say, hoping to convince him to stay with us.

"I do not know, Madam. I would not think that it is very good at all," la Lumière says, setting down the lute in a corner. "I would be very much obliged instead if I may take my leave now."

"No, you may not," I insist. "Why is it you suggest that this food is no good?" A direct question. Link would answer, I know it. "You suggest that we been greedy, when clearly and invitation is extended to you?"

"Well," he begins carefully, "I do not think that these nobles are greedy at all, Madame, as they have generously shared much with us, as you have said. They are just as lovely and generous as those the court last stayed with."

"Then tell me, my fool, what is the difference between these fine nobles than the last that makes you hesitate to share a meal with us?" Another direct question. I am curious as to what wit is swimming in my fool's mind as he stands in front of us, all eyes on him.

"Madame, do you mean to tell me that you, who pay much attention to detail, have not noticed that the nobles here are significantly smaller than those before?" he asks me innocently and I let out a gale of warm laughter.

"My dear Princess Ruto, we must inform your chefs that they should take cooking lessons from the Gorons," I laugh and she smiles wide, delight and amusement lighting up her face. "Really, my dear fool, come. You should join us, you have earned it. Besides, it is crab and lobster, is that not a delicacy that you quite enjoy?" I tempt him. He should not be able to resist.

"Well, then I suppose I will be seeing if my queen is correct in the taste of your food, Your Highness," Link says to Princess Ruto, bowing respectfully to her.

The dinner passed without a hitch, with much laughter and amusement on the tips of everyone's tongue. Yet, I still find myself in tears however, sobbing away in my chambers by the window when I hear a knock on my door. I quickly attempt to dry my tears, to no avail, and ask shakily who it is that calls upon me.

It is Link, of course, and I allow him to enter, staring deeply into the liquid in the goblet on the table in front of me. My eyes are tired and swollen and my forehead is throbbing as the door opens softly with a hint of a squeak and then I hear it click shut closed.

"Madame?" he asks me tentatively as I continue my vain attempts to rid myself of the salty tears that refuse to quit streaking my cheeks and chin. A silence passes us and I feel the slight touch of his fingers

(one must never touch a queen!)

on my shoulder to comfort me. "Milady, what has happened to distress you so?"

I chastise myself as I push his hand away. My fool is my best friend and has had more of me than anyone else, yet here I am hesitating to speak to him.

I simply shake my head and gesture him to take a seat. Coldness has swarmed in the places where his warm touch has left its mark on my shoulder. I finally choke out to him, my head in my hand and staring blankly at the grain of the table, "I have some terrible news that I have been contemplating."

"Bad news?" he asks aloud as if he cannot comprehend the words.

I sniffle and look up at him. I manage to tell him everything before finally I shout desperately, "It is not fair!" Fresh tears come pouring out of my eyes and slide ruthlessly down my cheeks. "I do not want this!" I cry, swiping the goblet of wine off of the table. It lands on the floor with a clatter, red wine splattering and sloshing everywhere on the floor. I stare down at it as if it is paining me, not daring to look at my one friend.

After a few minutes of silence, which is only disrupted by the noise of my now quiet and subdued sobs, he speaks softly to me, his voice scratchy. "Madame," he calls gently, "You are spilling good wine."

I shake my head in general disapproval, not seeing or caring if it hurts him or not. Quietly, I whisper to him, my voice cracking and shaking, "Such good wine has already been spilled."

* * *

August 2010

Well, herro thar! This is, not quite the original chapter. I had to edit it! It wasn't flowing right I felt with later chapters, since ever since I came back to this, it's become so formal. (I'm becoming too verbose I think. [Too much Melville?]) Anyway, I originally posted this story back in '06 and finally got off my ass and hit again four years later, much to my own pleasure. I'm quite enjoying this story even if it wasn't what I wanted at first and I admit, I'm winging this.

Here's the low down though, when this started it was around OoT era or something of the sort. I'm not sure now, as I explained in chapter nine. But as of chapter eleven I have a place in time marked now that actually plays an important part later on. Since I no longer had a clear point in time for this after I started working on this again, that's why instead of original stories told by Link, he tells stories of other Zelda games. Enough of my blabbering, enjoy the story and I love to hear from anyone that's reading your thoughts and criticisms and what-have-you.


	2. Prince Charming

- In the Fool's Court -

Prince Charming

"Get out! Out! Out!" I screech at the top of my lungs, not caring if my throat is on fire. It is not hard to figure out, for any idiot could see, that I just threw out another suitor I saw unfit; my screaming could have been heard for miles around. I am sure all of the market heard over their hustle and bustle.

Agitated, I collapse in a chair by the fire with a huff. It is all so mad, so ludicrous. I see out of the corner of my eye my ladies scurrying over to me, ready to assist me in any way possible. I sneer. Glaring, I bark at them, "Leave me."

Frightened looks pass over their faces from my growl, and they quickly do as I say, nearly pushing each other to get out the same door I had just sent that horrid suitor fleeing. While the others had the smarts to flee out of the room, I notice that one maid has the gall to stay behind. The thought flits through my mind that she is simply petrified from my outburst. No matter.

Turning in my chair, I look over at her. My eyes lock on hers. She starts to squirm. I order, "Bring me my fool." She nods and backs out the door, nearly tripping over her own to feet and looking just as - or maybe even more so -frightened than the other ladies.

I sigh and lean back in the chair. I can hear my childhood governess chastising me already for relaxing in a way a queen never should. "It is not proper," my governess would have said. I rub my eyes in my frustration as I wait. I am, quite simply, emotionally exhausted. I pick up my sewing that I had thrown down in rage in my confrontation with the suitor and continue my pattern until I hear that defining beat of my fool's slinking walk.

I look over as the door opens slightly. Link pops his head into the room cautiously. "La Lumière!" I call. "Come, come. Sit with me by the fire, " I beckon. My fool saunters over and sits uncomfortably in the chair opposite of me. "Do not fret, you are not in any trouble, my dear fool," I assure him, but this does not seem to put him at ease.

We sit in a somewhat companionable silence, if he were not rattled from my encounter with the suitor. I am relaxed by now, all the steam has been blown off and I sit resting in my chair, my sewing now forgotten in my lap as I gaze dreamily at the fire. My fool sits across from me, looking around awkwardly. After a few minutes, he speaks up, "Milady?"

I look up at him with my full attention. He squirms a little under my stare.

"Do you not think it wise to stop wasting good wine?" he asks quietly, his eyes fixated on the space of carpet between his boots.

I look at him curiously for a second before smiling sadly at him. "La, my dear Lumière!" I exclaim. "Is that what you think?"

His face turns a little pink and he nods stiffly. His hands fiddle with one another, his eyes still locked on the ground. He opens his mouth, but then closes it promptly. Just as I raise an eyebrow, he looks up at me and as quickly as he did so, he averts his gaze once more.

He takes my prompt and speaks softly in his grating voice, "Milady, you ought to know as well as I that as a mere fool I may talk endlessly but still say and think very little. Not much really comes out of my mouth."

I chuckle a little, a wry smirk forming on my lips. "I do not see it as wasting good wine; I see it as my wasting of bad meat," I respond and resume my embroidery once more. I look at it critically before plucking out a stitch.

"Your Majesty, you are seventeen now," he says. "Surely you must at least consider someone to pick as your king?"

I shake my head at him. "I care nothing for them, and I should figure that you ought to know that," I say almost helplessly. "Why is that you are also insisting that I marry? Surely you of all people would tell me otherwise!" I snap at him, and he flinches a little under my sharp gaze.

"It could never be," Link whispers, sadness and despair overcoming his facial features. I do not feel my expression change, but inside, I can feel my hear breaking until I cannot take it. The guilt that I have eats at me. It is my fault.

My face softens, and I look down at my lap in shame. We are silent again for a while. I finally look up and ask my fool quietly, "Link, did you ever dream as a child?"

"Dream?" he repeats in surprise. "As in fantasize?" I nod. His brow furrows as he thinks back on it. "When I was working on the ranch, I would find that the time would pass quickly when I did so. I dreamed of becoming a knight when I got older. It seemed much more gallant than a goatherd."

"Even though you never did become a knight, you are still a part of this court," I comment.

"Maybe so, but I am merely here to serve at your pleasure and entertainment, and if you request it, your guests as well."

"Entertainment is nothing compared to the truth that leaves your mouth," I assure him. "You say that talk a lot but say very little, but I think the opposite. There is always something meaningful to take from your nonsense." I sigh. "You are lucky however, my fool. Being royalty, I did not have a childhood. It was demanded of me that I must become a prim and proper lady if I was to be queen. I did not have dreams and wishes like you."

La Lumière looks at me with confusion scrawled across his face. "Sure you wished for something, milady. Every child does. It is just nature for them to."

I laughed a little. "Sometimes, I wished I was a commoner," I confess. "The street fairs and lights, it seemed so exciting and new. Being cooped up all the time in castles and carriages, it gets so dull. I got to see, and I still do, the most fantastic places, but it does not help if I cannot go out and explore them."

"Nothing is ever enough is it?"

"Maybe, maybe not," I say. "I hated the constant travel of the court, but even if I did not to physically enjoy what I saw, I still can now appreciate the natural beauty of the world." I lean in closer to him, my voice dropping to a whisper as he looks at me curiously, "I was never anything more than a pawn though. I will never be anything more than a pawn."

"Milady, you will always be queen."

"That is sweet of you, but even a queen is a pawn for others," I say and lean back in my chair. I pick my embroidery hoop back up again and begin working as my fool finally relaxes in his chair. This continues for a long while, neither of us making a sound. There is only the soft _pluck_ of the needle penetrating the fabric, and it completely engrosses me.

A soft sigh emits from my fool, and I look up at him to find that he is gazing blankly up at the ceiling. I follow his stare upwards to find there is nothing there that seems to be remotely interesting and important.

"What is it?" I ask him, looking back down at my work.

"You know what my grandfather would always say?" I hear him ask me quietly.

I hesitate a little in my stitching, but I do not suspect that he noticed at all. "No," I answer. "What did he say?"

"Whenever I would make foolish or inane decisions," he says, his voice far away and lost in memories, "he would smack me first. Then he would always look me square in the eyes, shake his head and then he would tell me, 'Link, m'boy, I do not raise any fools.'" He laughs a little. "Imagine what he would think- what he would say! if he saw that I was a court fool!"

I stop my needlework completely now, resting the hoop in my lap once more, but my eyes remain stiffly focused on the embroidery's pattern.

"Really?" I ask, as if what he said was just a wild tale spun from fantasy and completely unbelievable. A total fib.

"True story," he swears to me, and I can hear what comes next, but nothing follows.

I look up at him, and he is smiling. "Is that it? Just 'true story'? Will you not tell the that you made it all up? Are you ill, my dear fool?"

I hear my fool laugh gaily. It feels as if that is a rare thing, being that he is the one who is to make the jokes.

A wide grin on his face, he tells me, "I am honest, milady. It really is a true story."

I smile as well and shake my head at him. "Really now, I must stop having you tell me your jolly far-fetched tales," I chastise, but the smile plastered to my face tells otherwise.

"Milady? Is it true what the maids and cooks are saying?"

"What is that?"

"That we are to leave for Lake Hylia in a week?"

I sigh. "I am afraid so. We will be guests at my cousins' castle," I inform him. "And this time," I beg, "please, do not make trouble or I shall have your head."

"'Trouble'?" he asks innocently, but I can see behind his false expression that the ideas have begun cooking and the gears are all in motion.

"Yes, trouble. Remember when we were there last?" I ask. "I thought you might have been thrown out."

"I quite like the Gorons' company better," he says. "Even the Zoras have more humor than your cousins." His eyes shift a little. "We are speaking of your French-speaking cousins, right?" he questions.

I smirk and say, "We do. But I am serious, Link. If you do one think, I will make sure that I have your head by the end of our painful visit there."

"Well, that would be quite enjoyable, if I say so."

I squint at him. "What did you say to me?"

"I said that it would be very enjoyable, milady," he says confidently.

I ought to smack him, but I just laugh.

I cannot stop my fit even as I speak. "That is just filthy!" I holler. My side is in its own set of stitches by now.

That wry grin of his appears on his face, and he starts to laugh with me.

Once the laughter subsides, I say with a wave of my hand, "Get out of here before I really do smack you one for whatever dirty thing comes out of your mouth next."

"Smack me? I know a good place."

I snort. "If Impa were here, she would have your mouth stuffed with soap before you got even a word out."

He smiles at me, and I wave him away. He shuffles over to the door and bows before leaving me along in the room.

It is inconceivable to me that just two years later, I am the real fool when I believed "Prince Charming" had come. He was a handsome young man, well educated and often challenged my wit just as my fool challenged me. He was knowledge in a variety of subjects, confident and well spoken, and I fell for it all, even if my heart was not wholly into it. I still went along with it all for I found myself too flattered and charmed to turn him down. I failed to see who is really dirt, who really is royal and who really is the fool in all of this.


	3. Disengage

- In the Fool's Court -

Disengage

In a flurry of events, I finally find myself married and essentially chained. A royal wedding is not like that of commoners'. The celebrations last for days on end, and I was foolish enough not to expect it. The first night, I had awoken to the cheers of my people from the market town below. I was just as surprised as they were as I stood in my bedroom window in my nightshift, stunned, as they spotted me and roared even louder. Me for seeing them outside celebrating, and they surprised, yet jovial, they now had a man that was their king.

Even if any sort of romantic thought of or touch of the man made me sick and disgusted, I quickly masked my scowl for my people and plastered a false smile just for them. I should have known it was all about to go down the drain the moment I said my vows and promised myself to him.

Nonetheless, it is my duty to put aside such grief over such a thing. Instead, I prepare myself to join my people in their party, for I can hear them shouting and calling for me. When I arrive, I am greeted with excessive cheers and wishes of luck and all the happiness in the world. All them, I know, will be in vain when I am married to such a man as my husband.

Even the sound of it is a little rancid on my tongue.

Squeezing through the vast amount of people, I am blessedly surprised. I spy my fool sulking in a corner with a mug of drink in his hand. Breaking away from the attentions of strangers, I sidle my way up next to him. He tries to ignore me.

I poke him a little and la Lumière looks down at me with a strained face. He looks around at all the people dancing, laughing and enjoying themselves, the music and each other. Frustrated, my fool slams his mug down on the nearest table and slinks back over to me in that strange walk of his that I love. He bows, asking me if I would honor him with a dance. Of course, I eagerly accept, smiling.

The women are laughing and gossiping, and the men are drinking. I find that I, too, even if it is a wretched affair, am enjoying myself, my people and most of all, my fool. He spins me around and around other dancers, and I cannot seem to get this smile off my face. He tries to hide his own smile, but he, too, cannot help but enjoy himself in the festivities.

I do not see my husband for the next few nights, for he is out celebrating with the countrymen, drinking themselves away in a bar in the southern part of town and enjoying any woman that comes their way.

It is almost funny that as my husband carries out affairs with mistresses abound, I, too, court my own, but just one. Rather than enjoy each other, we are out and about and consummating the marriage being the last thing on minds.

Link and I eat and drink ourselves away by day on good food and good wine, and not caring if it causes us an ache in our stomachs later as we spin around the central market in town with all the others.

Three years later, I can still smell him as I lied next to him at night. I can still feel that woman smiling away, but it all feels so unreal and unnatural to me now. I used to enjoy golden days in autumn air, winter with hot cider by fire, card games in the spring and lake water by summer. I ponder how vile I have become. I feel as if I am some hateful and conniving wench, not a wonderful, happy and gallant queen. It seems almost suitable that I should be punished with such a deathly sickness.

Yet as I lay here on a bed in a room I do not recognize, I think how I was such a fool when I was young. Link had asked me once if I ever dreamed, and I did. I would never admit it to him, but I did, and it is these thoughts and dreams that keep me focused. Dreams? No, not dreams, but dream. One. Just one. This thought, this one dream is what keeps me from slipping, but I am so thoroughly focused on my thoughts; I cannot hear the whispers of my ladies as beg me not to go. I can hear them, but they are just a buzz. I have no idea what they are saying and I do not care. They are only a slight interruption in my dream of card games and dancing and parties. Yes, the parties.

"Madame," a gentle, scratchy voice whispers in my ear and tickling me. "Madame," the whisper repeats, "please do not leave." The voice is begging me, but I can only groan in response in my current sordid state.

There is a shout. Is that from the physician and suddenly the voice is no longer there, but far away. It is arguing but being pushed back. I feel my dream crumble a little as the beat of the door closing sounds.

There is a sky outside, bright blue with clouds drifting ever lazily across it. It is like a painting in motion with the birds flying by as I down myself in drink and entertainment.

"Open."

Open?

Open what?

The door? Yes, the door. Open the door, and I do so. I sprout wings and fly away-

Yes, it is open. Open.

"Open."

I am pulled back. I am lead up winding stairs, higher and higher, giggling madly. Warmth encircles my back and I eye the bottle of fine wine.

Leave? Yes, we're leaving.

Leaving the party.

A door closes.

There is whispering. Frantic whispering.

"No..."

Is there a problem?

"You have to leave... I insist."

A party. A door. Open. Close.

Open. Close.

Is there an argument?

"I cannot."

No, this is a happy time. What argument is there to be had when we have so much drink at our disposal? It is time to celebrate! We must celebrate. We must celebrate the opening.

Open. Close.

"Drink."

Drink.

Yes, there is a lot to drink here. Yes.

There is mead and ale and wine and whiskey.

"Madame!"

Good-bye whiskey!

"Madame, please!" it sounds! "Open!"

It is open, do you not understand? The whole game is open.

Oh! but we have the cards all out and the game is under way. So no! no. The game is closed. We cannot take another person. No.

And there it is. It is just a card game, and the Jack is smiling up at me. I think for a moment there, I saw him wink at me.

* * *

I feel a lot better now that this chapter's been re-written. I feel like it ties in better more so with the state Zelda's in and the hallucination or what-have-you she has in chapter four, especially the card game. If you're wondering why it's so confusing right there at the end, Zelda's pretty much so out of it from being sick, which she does have the rational to recognize this. By the end though, pff. So much for reliable narrators.

I actually always kind of thought unreliable narrators were a lot more fun than the reliable ones. You can never trust what they say. Leaves like an air of mystery.


	4. Pine Isle and Rummy

-In the Fool's Court-

Pine Isle and Rummy

The physician is pouring wine down my throat. Pouring it much too fast, I can feel it dribbling down the sides of my mouth, down my cheek, my neck and into my hair. A linen cloth brushes against my skin and a soft, husky voice leans in close to me, "Do not fret Madame, you must have strength. Please."

"Milady," the physician says, " you must drink."

The wine gurgles in my throat in weak response. The weight of the fever bears down on me. My vision is blurred, but in the haze I can see two pools of blue as they move over me. A wet cloth is placed on my forehead... the blue keeps its lock on me...

I struggle to keep my eyes open, but the battle... has long since been won and one, two... three...

A figure moves... four... blocks the blue...

"... Work quickly... bring..."

Five...

"Was this...?"

Six...

There is a party going on underneath us on one of the lower floors of the castle. I giggle a little as he makes another joke, little blue seas twinkling on his face. I throw my cards down in triumph, winning the hand. We are playing cards. Was it Pine Isle and Rummy? I believe so. There are sets laid out on the table, quickly vanishing from existence as he pulls the cards into two stacks to shuffle for the next hand.

There is a bottle of wine shared between us, the fire crackling heat and light into the drafty room. A candle is set on the table from which we may see the cards. He pokes another joke into the air, and I laugh a little more. In the candlelight, his large hand deftly deal us each five cards after he cuts the deck. The deck is slapped on the the table and he pulls the top one off and places it face up next to the stack. It is the Queen.

I smile cunningly as his face draws into a sneer. He says he did not cut the deck right and I snicker, stealing the fair Queen. Queens are wild this hand- wait. My husband. My husband! Where is my husband? Is he at the party?

This room. We are in my chambers. Are we alone? I think so. Right? Yes. Yes. This is right. Just him and I. Just us. Us. Here. Playing cards.

My set with the lovely Queen is laid out on the table. He has six cards in his hand instead of five. A nine of diamonds has taken Queen's place on the table in the discard pile. He smiles at me from across the table, the flame from the candle flickering in his eyes. He snatches the Maid. Replacing her in my three card set with the correct Jack. He slaps down his five card set and flings in the discard pile a King.

He says he is out. He is done. He is out of cards. Won the hand. The two cards in my hand fall to the table in defeat. We are at a tie. There is one hand left, but he is still looking deviously at me. He leans forward but pulls back, thinking the better of it before rising from his chair.

I am pulled from my seat, his breath tickling at my cheek as he whispers to me. I grin devilishly and chuckle in consent, the king still lying in the discard pile.

I am in my bed. I look to my side and he is there, his blond hair somewhat disheveled. But he is not in my bed, not that close to me. There he is, sitting in a chair by my side, waiting for me to wake. He smiles, his face so relieved to see my eyes open and alert.

"Madame, how are you feeling?" he asks me. "Here, allow me to bring you a fresh cloth." The cloth on my forehead is removed and he turns away from me. He places a new soaked cloth on my forehead and sits back in his seat next to me. His head cocked a little to one side and his gaze on the floor.

"I am sorry," I tell him. My voice is cracked, weak and soft from sickness.

Startled, he looks up at me. "Forgive me, but I do not know what you are talking about."

I swallow, difficult with my scratchy, sore throat. "Honestly, I am not quite sure. I had a dream. A fairly queer one. Or... or was it really an old reality? You were there. We were playing cards."

"Cards are not exactly a strange occurrence, Madame."

"Yes, I am aware. It is... No. Mind me not. I am just be silly again," I reassure him. But it was real. Yes. That really did happen. Maybe not at this point in time, certainly not, I have been quite delirious, but it did happen. Not recently, but a long while back. I am certain of this, but I dare not inform him.

I hear from my bed as I stare up into the canopy, scraping sounds from his chair, from glasses and the soft thumps of his footfalls as he moves away from me and back again. He leans over the bed, saying, "Madame, here. Please. You must drink."

I oblige and take the wine from my dear fool's hand. I breathe in the deep scent of the red wine before bringing it to my lips and taking a hearty gulp of the drink. I cough a little, the wine sputtering out from my mouth and onto my nightgown. I am able to swallow before a full-on attack overcomes me. "It is all right, Madame," he whispers soothingly as I continue to cough, my throat burning. I feel his hand slip onto my back to comfort me. "We have to burn everything anyway when you are well again." Link, my dear fool, takes the glass from my hand and as the coughing finally subsides, he lifts it to my lips and tips it, commanding, "Drink."

When I finally recover, the only people that entered my room were the physician and my fool. There was no sign of my husband, not even talk of him. I cannot decide if it is distressing or relieving, a bit of both. Distressing because it can only mean trouble in my marriage, but relief as I despise the bastard so.

There are gales of laughter lifting up in waves as I descend the stairs to the lower floors for the first time since falling ill. The court is enjoying itself at dinner, drinking and eating merrily and watching whatever entertainment has been planned for the evening. I step lightly down each step, dreading coming near the dinner, my ladies following me dutifully.

As we approach dinner, the noise is muffled behind the heavy oak doors. The guards snap to life as I approach, opening the doors to the hall for me and my ladies to allow us entrance. The court is alive and well inside, most not even noticing that the doors have opened to allow more in.

"The queen!"

The room suddenly settles down, and I see from across the room my husband at the dais. His face, one that was so lively and full of flirtatious smiles, suddenly falls at the announcement of my arrive. He rises from his chair as my ladies and I enter the room to take our seats. As I approach the dais, my husband bows slightly to me, "Milady!"

I sweep into a low, graceful curtsey, "My lord."

"This!" Husband calls. "My fine ladies and gentlemen, our queen has returned to us, healthy and hardy as before!" He raises his goblet. "To the health of our queen!"

"To the queen!"

Cups clang against one another in toast to my future health and the hall bursts back into its jovial and exuberant life as it was before anyone saw me arrive. My husband drinks from his cup, his eyes never leaving me as I continue my way to my rightful seat next to him.

* * *

Yeah. Update. After forever. I think I'll re-write the previous chapters. I feel like they're no longer up to par or something. I'm not sure. Anyway, I swear. I'm finishing this story, for sure. The fire's been lit!


	5. The Red Lion

-In the Fool's Court-

The Red Lion

"What happened to me?" I ask my fool the next day as we sit together in the garden.

"What do you mean, milady?" he asks.

"Tell me that story again. The one about the captain and his mate," I tell him.

"The one about the captain and his mate...? I do not recall that one, I am sorry to say, Madame."

"You do not remember it?" I exclaim in disbelief. "You remember all your stories."

He shakes his head, a little smile on his face. "Well, do you remember it, Madame? Refresh me, you tell me it."

"That is your job."

"I wanted to be a knight."

"I saved you."

"True. I still wanted to be a knight. Not a court fool."

"Such wit would have been wasted," I chide. "Besides, you are much cheaper to keep as a fool. And," I emphasize, "you are above all those other court fools. You are _my_ fool."

He laughs heartily and suddenly I see his face glow like I have not seen in years. "Madame, you must be my fool! I insist. I am afraid the wages may be lacking however," he tells me. "Still, Madame, do you know how hard though it has been all these years to find anything close to friendship?"

"What do you mean?" I ask sharply.

"I mean that, as you said, I am above the others, yet I am not a noble. So the other servants and fools and cooks and maids- all the others want nothing to do with me because I do not have a position as low as them."

"And you cannot really have company of the nobles because you are beneath them, " I finish for him.

He nods. "That is right."

"Well, take this small comfort my dear, you are my one and only real friend."

"I am?"

"Indeed."

His smile is wide, stretching far across his face. He chuckles a little, "You have never called me that before."

I have not? I have never once called him friend? Nothing in the least endearing?

"I am always your 'Lumière', or your 'dear fool', and so on, never 'friend'."

We sit in silence watching water pool around us in the garden. The water runs swiftly around us in full circle. Our only way out in this area of the garden is over a little cobbled bridge which connects to a path on the other side. We are essentially on our own little island. Secluded from the world even though castle walls tower high above us.

He is on his back now, soaking in the sunlight from far above and enjoying the small trickle of wind that blows past. He asks me again, "Madame, if you remember the story, do enlighten me please."

Of course I remember the story. I remember it quite well, it has been one of those few stories he has told me that has told me so much not about someone else or the way life works, but about how _I_ work. About how he and I work. How _we_ work. It was one of those stories that stuck me so deep inside, before I became so callous, so detached.

(Was it getting married that did this to me?)

We were sitting by the lake in the southern end of the country. My court was staying as guests in my cousins' castle along the waterfront. When was it? Not after I met my husband... When? I think the last time I was there before my husband was when I was seventeen. That must be it.

Yes, yes. That is right. I was seventeen. Link, my dear fool- no, my dear friend, had turned eighteen a few weeks before. That has to be when it was. Not long after he told me to find a husband

(the bastard)

and I scoffed at the idea.

Yes. That is exactly when he first told me the story of the captain. We were sitting out by Lake Hylia watching as the water stretched, licking the shore. I asked him to tell me one of his "true stories".

"Well... I think I have one. It is about the sea. Boats and sailing."

"A navy story?"

"Not a navy, but just a simple boat. A pirate boat," he said. I cannot recall exactly what his expression was, but it captured my interest.

So I said, "Oh? Pirates? How dirty."

"Not so dirty."

I giggled a little, "Oh? Well, I would still love to hear it." He shuffled himself up next to me and squirmed a little until his back cracked. I said to him, "You should not crack your back. It will cause you aches in you later years."

"Hopefully by then I will have gone out in a blaze of glory. I think there should be a fine stallion involved," he said to me quite confidently and I giggled again.

"No lovely lady by your side?"

"Ladies are not quite outfitted enough with the kind of clothing that is in fashion right now to be riding gallantly off into the sunset. There is sacrifice, and I would feel so terrible should she get mud on her dress."

"Well, maybe a lady pirate would suit you."

"Proper ladies are not pirates, Your Majesty."

I laughed. "The Gerudo may have something else to say about that."

"They do not brave high seas, but a scorching desert. I am talking about brave seamen out on open water, with monsters as big as mountains! Not a sea made of sand."

I smacked him a little on the shoulder. "The sun will set soon," I said, "Hurry it up. I want to hear the story before we get stuck out here in the dark."

"Out at night!" he exclaimed. "Very unsafe for a lady such as you, Madame." "The story."

He chuckles some, "Right. Well, there was this captain. He commanded a very fine ship, the Red Lion, with a crew made up of the very best men. They were pirates, as I have told you, and while they raided and pillaged for supplies and money, they still sought out the most precious of treasures.

"Now the land was very far and little. What lied before the captain and his crew was a vast sea with many islands, some unmarked on common maps, and some of those had some very daring treasures. The captain here had heard of an island in the very center of the sea that contained treasure that was beyond man's most wildest dreams."

"What kind of treasure?" I asked him eagerly, as if I were a small child.

"Patience, milady," he said, " Not even the captain really had an idea of what he was told about. All he knew was the this treasure was very powerful and extremely immaculate.

"So the captain set out with his crew on the open sea to find this fabled treasure. However, one of his crewmen has some misgivings and doubt about the journey, and voiced them fiercely to his fellows. Some shook their heads and said, 'If the captain says it, I shall go for it.' Others did not have such a will and began to harbor their own doubts.

"The Red Lion sailed the open sea for months at a time, searching for an island that none could really vouch even existed. But the captain pressed his ship onwards while his crew all began to doubt him. All doubted him but one.

"He was a little scrawny and could not put forth the same amount of work as some of the others, but he still worked hard on the ship. That mate would tell the rest of the crew every time the subject was brought up, 'I have faith in my captain's leadership and in the Red Lion to guide us through these waters.' The rest of the crew would shake their heads and squabble about themselves on how to overthrow the captain and get rid of the scrawny mate.

"However, after they changed their course to make way to an island to stop for supplies, for they had not seen another ship in weeks, a large storm raged on the sea. The winds were howling and the sky as black as ink. The men hurried to rush the ship to safer water when the largest sail and mast was suddenly smacked off the ship.

"The crew was horrified to see that an octork larger than any mountain they had ever seen rose up from the water. One man fell overboard and was snatched up by the octork. It sucked him in along with the ship's mast and sail. There was a huge _snap!_ and the ship's foresail went down. The octork's tentacle smashed down the bow of the ship into the depths of the water.

"The men scurried to find safety, but the octork sucked the ship further towards it. The captain and the scrawny mate hurried up past the mizzenmast to the quarter deck, the furthest they could get from the octork. As the captain's crew fell prey to the giant octork, the captain and the scrawny mate were seized by the octork and flung from the ship.

"When the captain awoke, he was not sure how long he had been out but found that the last of his crew, the scrawny mate, was lying beside him on an island. The figurehead of the Red Lion and scraps of the ship had washed ashore as well, and just beyond the figurehead, the captain saw a tunnel sink underground. Startled, the captain quickly awoke the scrawny mate and showed him the tunnel.

"They started down the tunnel, only to find that it filled with water. So the captain turned to his mate and said, 'Hurry back, we will build a new ship and torches out of the scraps.'

"They managed to make a small boat, with the figurehead in its rightful place and carried the boat down the tunnel and into the water and made a fire on the beach from which makeshift torches were lit. With a boat and a light, the captain guided the boat and his mate into the darkness. When the boat hit and bounced off a stone wall, the captain and his mate climbed up and went deeper into the cavern.

"They followed narrow passageways further and further that took them upwards and downwards when suddenly the captain stopped short. The mate, following closely behind, bumped right into the captain's back. The captain turned round sharply, and the mate feared a reprimand, but the captain only said, 'This, my boy, is it.'

"The mate peered around the captain's shoulder, but saw only the darkness surrounding them and a stone statue in front. 'I cannot see anything significant,' he said.

"The captain shook his head. 'Not yet, help me push.'

"So the captain and the scrawny mate pushed the stone statue. The mate thought his captain was getting shorter when he realized the floor beneath them was sinking downwards.

"The captain and the mate continued underneath the statue when they saw white light ahead. They hurried towards it and came out in a large sanctuary, shrouded in light so bright that they were blinded for a minute.

"The captain held out his hand to the scrawny mate's chest and said, 'Look fast, there it is.'

"Sure enough, it was there. The fabled treasure sat atop of an alter. The treasure was not one item, but three large, glowing orbs. One red, another blue and the last one green. Light pulsed forth from the three orbs and the captain dropped his torch, left behind to be forgotten.

"The captain and his mate took all three orbs and with them lit their way back out to the boat and finally back to the beach. Using their clothes, they outfitted the small boat with a sail and pushed out to sea. And when an island came into view, the captain told his scrawny one-man crew, 'We will be the kings of the Red Lion.'

"And so it was."


	6. Dandelions in the Garden

-In the Fool's Court-

Dandelions in the Garden

"I am confused," I say to my fool. "Link, help me sort this mess out."

He rolls onto his side in the grass and fingers a small dandelion weed sprouting up. "What is there to be confused about? By the way, you keep delaying the story about this captain and his mate."

"It is just that," I say. I rise from my seat on the garden bench and stroll towards him in the center of the island courtyard. I sit down next to him the grass.

"Ladies should not sit on filthy ground, even if it is a royal garden," Link informs me.

I smile at him. "You said something like that when you first told me that story," I say. "However, I am trying to work it out in my mind. When exactly you told me this and I think it was not long after you had your eighteenth birthday and we went to south, to the lake. Do you remember that?"

"The lake? Lake Hylia? We have been there a handful of times, milady."

"Yes. I am pretty sure I first heard that story when I was seventeen. That was what...? Five years ago? Already?" I wonder aloud, almost in a panic it seems.

"The years can pass quickly, Your Majesty," Link says. "Sometimes, when you think ahead, it seems there is lots of time, but there isn't."

I look at him. Dead in the face. Our eyes meet. "There is not?"

"No," he says, surely but flatly. "There isn't. Think about it. You are but a woman of twenty-two. It is not old, but you are not terribly young either. If you lived until you were fifty, Your Majesty, that is only another eighteen years. Another eighteen autumns. Another eighteen springs. Winters. Summers. That's not a lot."

"No it is not," I admit sadly. "Link, do you think we are getting old?"

"Everybody is getting old," he assures me. "Now, what is this story I told you so long ago about a captain and a mate?"

I have to laugh a little. "No, that still does not make sense though."

"What are you talking about then?" he asks. His brow furrows a little. "Now it you who is making little sense."

I sigh, "I just mean that, I feel so shaken. That sickness, it has me rattled to the core." I shiver slightly. "I keep thinking about- no I keep remembering these things from when I was seventeen. Like us playing cards actually. Sometimes I am sewing, or enjoying another feast. I remember you singing for us when we stayed with the Zoras. Remember? Just before we travelled down the lake for about a month or two."

"I remember," my fool says. "I do not understand, though, what exactly is so significant about it."

"I think that is what I am trying to figure out," I say. "Do you think it has something to do with us?"

"Hardly."

"My husband?"

This he shrugs at that. "Only if you are planning to knock him off, which I will be one of the first to be right behind you, Madame."

I look around. It is silly, but I get those feelings of paranoia that someone is watching. Maybe I am nervous my husband will hear. But we are alone, Link and I, on our little island in the castle gardens. I lean into him and whisper, tickling his ear, "You speak of treason, my dear."

He chuckles slightly and rolls back onto his back, enjoying the breeze and the sun once more as he looks upward. He asks, "Was the captain and the mate story the story of the Red Lion?"

"Yes."

He nods slightly. He says, "I remember that one. Madame, you are the captain, and I will always be your scrawny mate. Remember, you are the throne. Without you, your husband has no say as king. You run the show. You can still run it."

"I run it all?"

He turns his head towards me and says, "Yes. You are the heir, milady. You are the late king's daughter, bless his soul. You will always be safe, because without you, there is no throne for your husband. Remember that. Even when you think you are being soft. Even when you think you are being callous."

"Do you think what he is doing is cruel?" I ask hesitantly.

"Indeed. What need is there to raid your own people? It is not necessary, and soon your people, your crew, will doubt you if they haven't begun already. Personally I cannot begin to fathom they aren't whispering behind closed doors. They will talk of mutiny with more force sooner or later, and it will not be pretty."

"He says it is to help rid Hyrule of heretics."

"If there are any sort of real heretics, your husband leads them. I do not mean to say anything to degrade his people but they have long since been restless. You are safe from your husband's wrath, but you are not safe from the Gerudo's wrath."

I draw myself to my knees to keep the shivers away. I have no idea whether what he says is physically affecting me or if the disease is still at bay. I have faith it is the former rather than the latter. I sigh into my skirts. "Link," I begin slowly. "What do you think of going hunting?"

"Hunting?" he asks surprised.

"Yes," I say. "It is not a knight thing, but you get to shoot arrows and ride a horse."

My fool sits up. "Arrows? A horse?" he repeats eagerly. "I should think I would very much like to go hunting. But wouldn't horses scare off the game?"

"They will only take you out far enough to catch your game. Do you think you will find anything in these fields?"

"Good point. Still," he says, "I would be very much obliged if I could go."

I smirk. "I could arrange it somehow I am sure. Maybe with the baron visiting down from Ordona."

"There is a baron in Ordona? I must say, I do not believe you."

"There's a baron or a duke just about anywhere they can fit a wee castle."

He laughs. "I'm from Ordona, you know. Down by the Faron woods, in that little village called Ordon."

"Where did they ever get the name?"

He snickers and again tells me that I really must be the fool here. Rolling over onto his side again, he fingers then picks the dandelion weed from the grass. He raises it up in offering to me. I take it.

"What am I going to do?" I ask aloud, exasperated. I twirl the little dandelion between my fingers and it spins in a wonderful blur of golden yellow.

"It is your ship, milady."

"My ship?"

"Your ship. You are the King of Red Lions, milady. It is your ship, command it so."


	7. When the Moon Fell

-In the Fool's Court-

When the Moon Fell

I swear I am losing myself. I have spent the past few weeks walking corridors and paths in a complete haze. Time is no longer in question. I feel like I am seventeen, fourteen and twenty all at the same time. How in the world does that even make sense? I am stuck in this fog and nothing is really solid. I can't keep track of what day it is or when or where I have been and I blame the sickness that fell on me before.

Have I not recovered yet? Or is it that I am going senile? Going mad? I am delirious, that I must be sure of. Yet, if I say that I am mad, I must be rational enough to come to that conclusion, and therefore I am not? Such semantics will do me no good. But I cannot help but notice this deadly feeling within me. It has been hard to ignore and it has settled in on me these past few days.

So maybe I am not mad or senile. Maybe I really am rational, but this gut feeling is like a brick lodged within me. I cannot get it to budge and I have the most dreadful feeling of something awful. I think what must be driving me mad is that I cannot seem to pinpoint or put my finger on this feeling. I have to real reason to feel this way, right? Well, my husband is disgusting enough to me to make me ill.

The court has not moved from Hyrule Castle in months and it has gotten quite dreary. Maybe this is cabin fever? No, I should not be thinking about that again.

It is getting hard to entertain myself. My fool has been nowhere in sight for the past few days and the ladies' gossip is hardly interesting. There has been quite the array of barons and dukes and cardinals flitting in and out, however. My husband is plotting, and I have no idea as to what. He has this country in the palm of his hand

(the bastard)

and he certainly is running it with an iron fist. I should probably expect us to go bankrupt and war torn by the end of this foul mess.

For Heaven's sake! Where did that boy go? I cannot for the life of me find my fool. Link is no where to be found in the kitchen, scrounging up more plates of his favorite seafood. He is not in the library, enjoying some fictional adventure nor is he rolling in the castle fields or gardens. Has no one even seen him either? Not even the castle servants are of help.

This is insane.

I head out of the castle and into the royal gardens. The fountains and creek softly trickle and the clouds drift overhead, dark and heavily pregnant with moisture. It's humid out. The sun peaks out over a cloud and lights the path, just briefly, before it is covered again in shadow.

"Your Majesty!"

"Yes?"

The guard shrinks back a bit. Did I just snap at him? "You might want to return to the castle, the rain will be coming soon."

"Rain is of no importance. I will be fine."

"But-"

"I will be fine," I repeat.

I find my way to the center of the gardens, back on the little island. This is my favorite spot. I lay out in the grass, not caring if my dress gets ruined.

There was a story that Link told me once, it was about Termina and the moon. Where were we? In a carriage. Yes. He was riding with me and the moon was full. I cannot recall how old we were. Maybe fourteen-fifteen? It was one of the first stories that he claimed was a "true story". They weren't really true of course.

We were riding in a carriage, the moon laying low above the trees. I do not remember where we were, where we were coming from or where we were going. I remember the moon mostly, how bright it shone and how the plains glowed in its bathing light. I was completely mesmerized by it until he said, "You know, the moon once fell."

"How could the moon have fallen if it is still in the sky?" I asked.

"Because it was put back in its place, Your Majesty."

I think I actually snorted a little then. I said, "There is no possible way."

He asked me, "Milady, do you ever think of what lies beyond? Do you really even believe in the Great Goddesses?"

This had surprised me. "I do not know. I have no reason not to believe and I have no reason to believe."

"I see," he said quietly. "Have you ever been to Termina?"

"No, I have not."

"It is a fascinating place. Every year, as you know, the people of Clock Town hold a carnival, the Carnival of Time. During the preparation for the carnival one year, however, a lonely young boy mugged a poor salesman. The salesman was traveling through Termina heading towards the carnival when the boy stole from him a very rare and strange mask.

"Unbeknownst to the boy, the mask contained a very great evil and when he put the mask on, its power surged through his body. The mask stuck to the boy and refused to budge. Its demonic will overtook the poor boy for his will was not as strong."

"The boy became the mask!" I asked, nearly shouted, and was completely appalled.

"In a way, yes. The salesman searched for the boy and the mask, but he was always a step behind as the mask exercised its will across Termina. In three days, the swamps in the south grew venomous and deadly, the mountains to the north froze over, the western sea became murky and the dead rose in a rage in the eastern canyons. The third day was the eve of the Carnival of Time, where the salesman now waited patiently for the boy and the evil mask to come to wreak its havoc for there was not time enough to chase the boy and the mask across the country side.

"The salesman waited atop of the clock tower in town for the boy and the mask to come, for he saw over the days since the mask was stolen, that the moon hung lower and lower in the sky. The clock tower is the highest point in Clock Town and the closest point to the moon. So when the salesman looked up, he stared up into the moon's face as it bore over the town.

"When the clock struck midnight, the salesman turned toward the stairs of the clock tower and saw the boy with the mask on. The mask laughed at the salesman and forced the boy to raise his hands upwards to the moon. The mask's power pulled the moon straight out of the sky and it began to descend upon the town.

"The townspeople below paused in their festivities and watched in horror as the moon fell towards them. However, above their screaming and panic, a melody danced down to their ears from atop the clock tower. The salesman carried with him an ocarina with a sound that cut through the air. The melody of the salesman's ocarina stretched all across Termina, to the southern swamp, to the northern mountains, the western sea and eastern canyons. All at once the swamp was cleared, the mountains came to life with greenery, the ocean calmed and the canyon fell to rest. Up from deep within each these very different climates rose a beast of monstrous proportions.

"They were giants that stretched forth their legs, and within four steps cleared the distance between their very different lands to the center of Termina. The giants raised their arms and the moon fell into their hands. They struggled under its weight as the moon came crashing down upon them, their knees buckling beneath them. The giants held firm and then as suddenly as it started, the moon stopped.

"The four giants, using all their might, pushed the moon back up into the sky. Angered that its will was defied, the mask released the boy and shot into the air. The mask screeched with fury and its anger pulsed forth, lashing out at the giants. The giants recoiled.

"The salesman, however pushed through the dark waves towards the mask. The giants regained their ground and closed in on the mask. Each of the giants raised a hand once more and brought it down, striking the mask. The sound of the salesman's ocarina cut through the air once more and the mask shuddered under its power, weak from the giant's attack.

"A giant ball of energy rose up from the mask and all the evil it contained rose up. Each of the giants opened their mouths and swallowed a portion of the evil. The mask clacked to the ground, useless. The four giants turned and returned to their corner of the land.

"The salesman packed away the mask within his bags. Picking up the boy, the salesman sunk down the stairs of the clock tower and out of sight."

"That is it? A salesman was able to summon giants and defeat a powerful mask? Impossible."

"But it is true."

I looked at him, disbelieving. "Four giants do not just rise up from the ground. There is no way that story is true."

"It is true," he insisted. "It is a true story, that I of course made up."

I definitely snorted at that. How very unladylike of me.

We sat in silence for a long while after that. I cannot remember everything I was thinking, my mind was whirling with every different thought. I only broke the silence after that long, dreadful and heavy pause by asking Link, "Do you believe in the Goddesses?"

He was looking out the window, gazing dreamily into the landscape. He did not even so much as glance over at me for a long while. When he finally did, he looked me straight in the eyes and said, "Just like you, I have no reason to believe and no reason not to. There is one difference however, even though I feel I have no reason, I think I might, but I cannot tell if it is solid enough. Do you understand that? It is quite a paradox."

"It is," I agreed. "I believe I get what you mean though." More silence. More dreary, heavy silence. He never looked away from me. So I said, "What is your answer?"

He opened his mouth, just briefly, before snapping it right back. His head tilted downward and he studied his shoes for minute. He only answered me when he looked back up. "I have to say that I believe, even if I am not sure if I have reason, but I think it is reasonable enough to suspect."

"Suspect that you do have reason?"

"Yes."

I cocked my head to the side a little. "What is that reason?"

"You picked me."

I cannot remember what was said after that. I look up at the looming clouds, rain steadily falling now. The sound is soothing, like one of a bowl of beads falling to the floor. My dress is soaked and ruined. Maybe I should head back inside. With my dress and hair soaked to the core, I might catch another wretched sickness. I do not think I have the will to go through that again. This is a very horrid day it feels, no matter how pleasant the sound of this rain is.

I have this feeling though. That horrid feeling of the brick for the past few days. The story of the moon and the memories with it were distracting enough, but the feeling is back full force. Maybe the rain is making me sick. I cannot shake this.

Just as I am about to stand up however, I hear the familiar beat-shuffle of boots. Where has that man been for the past few days? I am up on my feet as soon as he appears in the courtyard entrance, the one entrance to this little island, ready to scold him for wandering off.

But his face! his face! My word! That split second where I am about to open my mouth and lash out at him is cut to this moment where my heart just crashes into my stomach.

The look in Link's lovely blue eyes are maddening. His face somehow has sunken in. He looks hollowed and frail and deathly pale. There is panic within him, and I find myself frightened as well.

"Zelda!" he shouts and my blood runs cold. This rain is not comforting anymore. It is like ice striking my skin. There has only been a select few times he has ever dared to call me by name. He is wheezing some. His eyes wide and deeply afraid, he says desperately, "Zelda! Zelda, please you must come! Something terrible!"

My hands are shaking so bad, I clutch my skirts to keep control. I am finding it hard to swallow, hard to speak but I manage, "What has happened?"

"It is Darunia! Zelda, please! He is going to be executed!"

What a wretched day it is when the moon falls.


	8. My Most Horrid Baggage

-In the Fool's Court-

My Most Horrid Baggage

This is completely ridiculous. This is completely horrifying. As I come barging into my husband's studies, Link is no longer the only one a complete mess. He looks better than I do now, more composed, but he is so pale. So white. It is as if he is simply gliding next to me, forever my ghostly haunt.

The guards tell me I cannot enter, but in my rage, my sorrow, my absolute desperation and horror, pushing them aside is anything but a hard task. I throw open the doors and they clatter and bang against the walls and bookshelves.

A cardinal whose name I cannot remember - for Heaven's sake, that is what I have Link for - stands abruptly and says, "Your Majesty, a good evening to you, but I must insist you leave."

"Leave!" I shout, appalled. If I am not in hysterics by now, I must getting close. This is just mad! Absolute madness! What the hell is going through Husband's

(the fat ugly bastard)

head that he believes this to be right? To be just? To be in any sort of way beneficial?

"How can I leave when you are all obviously morons! What you are doing is just absurd!"

The cardinal has turned pale as well. He is stuttering and falling over his words, but insists this is not a matter for a _lady_ such as myself. If I am to be insulted, I hardly care to think of that right now.

"Link! What do you think of this?"

My fool shrinks back away from the light of the fireplace, just trying not to be seen. He is hesitating, could he pick a worse time?

"Link! I asked you a question," I tell him firmly. "Come into the light, and tell me your answer. Tell us all."

He moves forward, unsure but obviously feeling safer to speak his opinion than not. His eyes shift from the cardinal, to the king and to me, his queen. He opens his mouth, but no words are coming out.

"Link," I push.

"I think that it is quite unnecessary. Everything. Burning homes of the innocent- your people! is bad enough. Do not do this, please."

The cardinal is still white, but there next to him, I see a duke. I remember them, their faces, yes. Their names, no, that is still a mystery but the duke is most definitely the cardinal's brother. Unlike the his brother, I see that the duke is obviously more hardened. His face only reddens as he hears my fool speak.

" 'Unnecessary'?" the duke asks. "Do you think it is unnecessary to purge us of heretics? If they have their way, they will wipe us out."

I see Link's face harden at this. His brow furrows and he sees before him a battle of wits. He says, "Yes, the Gorons are quite the heretics, because they build and transport your weapons? Would you mean that they will use a Hylian man's own weapon on him? I hardly think not. You are asking to cut access to Death Mountain and the passage ways beyond for not only us, but for other countries. What is there to gain? The deprivation and hatred from the people? You will isolate this country, and it will suffer. I hardly think that is any way to run a country-"

The duke slams his hand onto the table. My husband is relaxed, essentially lounging in his chair,

(the lazy arse)

watching the scene unfold. The duke's face is a tomato. "How DARE you!" he screams. "What makes you think it is your place to speak such? What are you? You are a lowly servant. Your job is to make jokes, sing songs and tell us little anecdotes, not matters of the state. You are a court fool-"

"He is _my_ fool," I interject harshly.

"Either way, he is a fool and fools will run their mouths faster than their brain can think and will talk on about insignificant topics. My lord, I hardly think the lady and her fool-"

"I am your queen!"

The duke turns to me and says, "I hardly think that matters at the moment." The gall! "My lord, we should proceed."

I am livid. "What are we to gain from this?" I yell. "There is nothing. Only more heartache and harm will be done because of your foolishness!"

My husband finally speaks, "My dear wife

(my most horrid baggage)

if you must know the circumstances, which your witty fool

(your evermore disgusting plaything)

has obviously failed to deliver to you, I shall tell you. But first, has he even told you where he has been these past few days as you searched endlessly for him around the castle for some entertainment?"

My face hot. I dare not answer, but that alone says it all.

He snickers

(cackles)

a little. That horrid snare of a smile stretches over his face- how in the world did I ever think he was in the least bit charming? This wretched excuse for a man degrades me every time he looks at me.

He says to me, "The Gorons were found to be not only making, but storing and providing the very bombs those heathens, those heretics, have been using as sort of a terrorist tactic against us." He has risen from his seat at the table and paced across the the stone to me. Breathing into my face,

(breath that could kill the dead all over again)

he tells me, "Executing their patriarch should send a clear enough message to them that they should not get in the way of matters they should not, Hylian matters. Their aid to heretics will not be tolerated."

For a split second, I imagine myself spitting in his face and saying, "You are the only heretic," but I do not dare. Not here. Not now. Instead, I whirled away from him, and spit commandingly at my fool, "Link!" He stiffens but quickly shuffles out after me.

We are pounding down the corridor. I stop abruptly and he, not expecting, does not. He quickly catches himself and back up a few paces to keep himself a respectful ten steps behind. I look at him sharply and I see him recoil. "You are to walk with me. Not behind. With me. Not one step behind from now on. Do you understand?"

A little shocked, I see him glance around to see if there is anybody around. There is not. Weakly now, all power drained from his encounter with the duke, he says, "Yes, milady," but does not move.

"I said that you are to walk with me. Come here."

My fool hesitates again but does what I ask, and walks up next to me. His head is turned downward and away from me. Are his cheeks red?

What am I thinking? Such details are not going to help.

"What do you think?"

"What do I think? About the duke? About this whole mess?"

I say to him calmly for the first time since I saw him run into the garden courtyard, "I already know what you think of this terrible fiasco."

"I think the duke does not like people with no status who talk too much."

"But is that not what he said your job was? You are indeed a fool."

His faces brightens just the tiniest bit, and the smallest of smiles flits at the corners of his mouth. "But he is wrong too. I think quite a bit before I speak."

"He also says what you say is insignificant- utter foolery."

He chuckles some at this and says, "Most of what I say is utter foolery though, Madame."

I am smiling now too and wave for him to follow. "It is the wisest foolery I have ever known, however," I tell him, walking briskly down corridors. "You just have to look for it. The duke and cardinal, whatever their names are, do not have the same wit as you do. Fools must witty in order to speak quickly."

"You think I can outsmart them?"

I stop outside the door to my chambers. "Indeed I do," I say and open the door.

Link looks down at his boots. They are covered in mud. "I was following them. A couple of barons out on a hunting trip that is. But then I saw them, and I actually cannot remember their names either, " he admits with a puzzled look scrawled across his face.

I frown at him. "You know I depend on you to remember half the nitwits that visit. What am I to do now?" I ask him and head inside my chambers. He follows me in and I shut and lock it.

"Well," he says, looking upwards, thinking as he goes, "so long as you do not have to ever write them, you should be fine. It is a lot easier to avoid saying someone's name in conversation than when you have to write to them or write about them. Where is Impa? She should know."

"You know where Impa is. Do not play dumb."

He smiles guiltily as I turn and shut every curtain. "Yes."

"Where is she?" I ask as he lights candles to bring light to my devious plan.

"Kakariko."

"Why?"

"She followed too. See, I wanted to follow the barons, but then I thought I kept seeing something moving and of course, it is Impa. She had no interest in the barons, I knew right away, they were a bunch of dunderheads. I was curious again, and started following her. And that, milady, is when they pulled Darunia down from the mountain."

I study him very hard for a moment before saying, "I am not going to ask all the questions that I ought to for such a flimsy motivated story, but I am sure those details can wait or be completely ignored. We have much more important things on hand."

He nods, smiling sheepishly at me. "Do you want me to go the Kakariko then?" he asks.

"She has most likely moved away from there. I believe, however, it is in Eldin that there is a village somewhere. It is very well hidden, and I think she must be there." He takes a seat at my drawing table. "You do have to go to Kakariko, however."

"What is it you want me to do exactly? I am not following, Your Majesty."

"You have to somehow go up Death Mountain and get Darbus."

"Darbus?"

I take a seat on my bed and say, "Yes, Darbus. He should be the next patriarch, and it will be good if you can help get me on his good side before anything worse happens."

He looks at me hard. "You are sending me to my death. You do realize that?"

"I have faith in you."

"I will do as you ask, Madame. However, does this mean we cannot save Darunia?"

I shake my head. "Sadly, there is no saving him now."

"What can Darbus do?"

"You need to get access to the hidden village. Darbus is renowned for his strength, he can help you get through any barriers to the village where Impa must be."

Link gazes down at his filthy boots. "Why is Impa suddenly important? She has not really been around in years, not since you stopped needing her to watch you."

"It is a royal secret that Impa was not just a nursemaid. She is supposed to be the last of the Sheikah tribe. Do you know what that is?" Link shakes his head, not looking at me. "It is not really of importance right now. Right now, you must gain Darbus' trust. Without it, we will all be destroyed."

He does not speak. When he looks at me finally, I see just on the very edge, that salty water. He says, "Why is this happening?"

"Power."

"It is a cruel thing."

"It can also be a very wonderful thing."

"We need more of it."

"Darbus," I say, "will have it."


	9. Little Details

-In the Fool's Court-

Little Details

It has been years since Impa was with the court. She cared practically for my every need and want as a child and filled the hole my mother left- one which I never noticed until years later for Impa had filled it quite nicely. I was never quite sure her age for she had the face of someone quite young when I was a child, but her silver strands told me otherwise. I never dared to ask.

Impa had taught me to read and write, and she taught me quite young. I cannot recall when exactly the words on the pages started to meld together and make sense, but she would sit me down at night, book in hand and slowly run her finger across the pages, reading aloud.

She had, for the most part, not just taught me my studies and etiquette, but she taught Link as well. The governess my father had appointed did not have the gall to ever strike me, but Link was not as fortunate. After he began his time at court, it became very apparent how country and lower class he was. He had no idea how to read or write. History was not exactly something that was ever explained, his mathematics were not to be envied (at thirteen years, I was somewhat appalled to see that he still counted on his fingers), so due to not only me but Impa insisting on educating the poor boy, Link began to join me with the governess.

She was harsh. My fool had the worst time trying to understand the alphabet itself, let alone put together words. The governess possessed a stick with which she often used to strike him. Should he mess up the order of the alphabet, the stick would bear down on his knuckles. If he mispronounced a word, he would stiffen in response before meeting the blow. When he would complain, she would hit him again and say it was "to get rid of that ghastly country accent." It was even worse with writing.

"The devil lurks in the left!" she would holler, and the stick would flare down. His knuckles and fingers would be red and sore as she would jam the pen into his right hand. She would strike him again on the forearms if he decided to defy her.

"I think it more comfortable to write with my left," he would insist.

"The proper way is with the right," she would say right back, all the while glowering at him.

When Impa caught wind after passing by a session with the governess, Impa had nearly broken the door off for she had seen Link getting whipped on the knuckles with the stick again. After that, Impa had the governess thrown not only out of a job, but out of court as well.

I remember Link being very excited Impa would educate him instead of our last nightmarish governess, but she was just as firm, without the physical force. "I will not have any of this left business. You will not be clumsy, you will not be careless."

"The right is more awkward and clumsy."

"You will write with your right hand," Impa would snap, and Link would scowl.

Those were actually such lovely memories and I cannot wait to see Impa again after nearly a decade of being apart, but this is not the time for this. I must prepare for Impa to come back, and by doing so, I must sort this mess out once and for all that I have been trying to for what seems like ages where I have been walking in such a haze. I must clear myself of that.

Let me think of what I have been completely oblivious to. Impa will come, and Link will come back. I have faith in that. I know my husband has been burning villages left and right where he claims to me there are heretics. I highly doubt that, but there was no way I could ever question

(if only I were a man)

him on that. That aspect has to be about money though, right? The taxes. Have the taxes gone up? They must have, and those villagers must have been unable to pay up for it. Unable to pay, why not pillage it for all it is worth and then kill off anything left? Why have I ignored this?

My blood turns to ice.

I got sick.

Oh my-! did he poison me?

Any color in my face is immediately drained. My eyes widen. I start to shake.

Oh my Goddesses! what if he is still poisoning me? Or still trying? The food-! I cannot eat the food sent to me any longer! That must be why I have been so out of it. He tried to kill me, and when I got sick, he took that chance to enact this whole fiasco. I cannot drink any of the wine or milk or eat any of the food.

And I am about to send away the only other person left I can trust.

No. No, there has to be someone else in the castle that I can trust to bring me something to drink that is pure and to watch my food prepared. But how can I trust that they will not do anything to my food?

I have to.

There is no way I can go down to the kitchens and watch the chef prepare my food and I cannot exactly go out and buy supplies myself. All of that is suspicious. It will be suspicious enough sending Link away.

I need to cover that up.

Minor detail.

No. Is it?

I am panicking.

Calm down.

Think of what has happened. First, my husband claims that from intelligent and worldly sources that there are heretics in Hyrule. When was that? Not too long after we were married

(the scummy union)

and he said he would speak with a hand picked counsel and deal with the problem. I did not object

(why?)

and turned my back to it.

Husband deals with the "heretics", which were probably only non-paying villagers, or it is possibly people who had radical political views that ran against my husband's ideal. The latter actually sounds more likely now that I think of it. To deal with the "heretics", my husband burns down villages. I turn a blind eye

(why?)

and go back to my pleasures.

Husband poisons me to take me out and take full reign, without me as baggage. That does not make sense though. If I am killed, the throne transfers to a cousin of mine, he does not keep it for he is only related by marriage. So he puts me out of commission then, just makes me sick enough to throw me to the brink of death, act outwardly concerned to the public, and brings me back. He will likely try this again.

I can no longer eat any food or drink any drink that is unexpectedly brought to me, or I will risk being pushed aside and leaving him to his own devices. He had seemed calm enough when I barged in on their plotting after he apprehended the Goron patriarch, but when he had leaned in close and I could smell the wine on his ghastly breath, I felt inside he did not want me there. So he, indirectly I suppose, threatened me. He threatened me with knowledge I did not have and threatened me by giving me knowledge as well. I must use that somehow to my advantage.

While Link prepares to leave for Death Mountain and the hidden village, I can rely on him to receive and prepare my food (as abhorrent as it might taste) as well as buy and prepare my drinks. I will have to find someone to replace him while he is gone. I cannot go to one of the nobles here at court, for the same problem may arise that it will pass through one of their servant's hands instead of them handling it themselves. Besides, the court is very windy, and I cannot be sure I am really on friendly terms with any of them. They all may very well be on my husband's side.

I cannot have any of that getting out and reaching my husband. I should have Link pick for me. If he trusts them, I must trust them. My faith in him has always been great, I should not insult him now by turning my nose to someone he judges fit. He should know quite a lot of the servants, even if he is above them. There has to be at least one person he gets along with. I must hope for that.

Until Link returns, I will have to depend on that person. When Link gets back, hopefully with Impa, it should be even easier by having her to pick up all my food and drink and have Link prepare it. I should have Link disguised when he goes out until that point. There can be no chances. Impa is trained in stealth, so having her slip in and out of the court and castle should be easy. No one must even know she is back at court.

However, until I can fully investigate, what motive does my husband have for all of this? Why is he doing this? I can only assume taxes will have gone up in order to fund his personal crusade, but why? This most important part is not there and has continued for Nayru knows how long to elude me, but I have figured out so many other details.

Most unfortunately of all, I cannot save Darunia. The Gorons will form a blockade against any Hylian or other man from entering or leaving Death Mountain. All passes through the mountain will be blocked. When I married my husband, access to through the western desert was opened by the Gerudo. The desert is hard to cross however, but it leads into the canyons of Termina. He opens the west and closes the east.

There is too much missing.

I should find Link.

I should find Impa.

* * *

Wow, haha. Time for a note? To all the comments about the alternate universe I have gotten in so many messages and the couple in reviews, I have, in all honestly, totally been winging this since at least chapter four, but just looking back on chapter three, maybe even then is where things really changed and I said, "Fuck this," to whatever it was that was the original plot. This story definitely sat around for too long between three and four. I don't even really remember where I wanted to go with this (hence the dropping of the "romance" from the genre and changed summary). I think it was supposed to be OoT era, like an extension to that alternate universe or somethiiiing. And then Twilight came out in between chapter three and four, so when I wrote four, I can say that's where the direction completely changed, like fo' sho. The political aspects I wanted, are still intact I believe, at least the whole husband/wife enemy and rivalry. (Civil war...? :|) It's fuzzy since all the plot plans and stuff have disappeared since my old computer went kaputt and took all my files and stories and awesome pictures of dinosaurs shooting lasers with it. To be blunt and simple, I have no idea.

I still consider re-writing the first three, and then I think how I'm never going to get around to it and just keep chuggin' along. Anywaaaay, more to come (next couple chapters are written out)! Thanks to all you guys reading, sending me messages and the few that reviewed. xD Peace home slices!


	10. The Great Tree

-In the Fool's Court-

The Great Tree

"Milday?" he calls after knocking on my door. He is very quiet and when I open the door I see him shifting uneasily. "What if-"

"That is hardly the least of our worries right now, do you think so?" I say quite exasperated. Link nods curtly and slips into my chambers. "Sit," I tell him, and he takes a seat by the fire. He stares blankly into the flames.

"I admit that I still am not following what you want me to do with all this."

"And I admit that I am not quite sure how this is to all pan out," I tell him honestly. "My husband is doing this for a reason I do not know of."

He sinks into the chair and says, "Do you think Impa will help with that?"

"I hope so," I say. "I hope Darbus can help too."

We fall silent, lost in our own thoughts and worries. The future is looking bleaker every hour that I cannot come up with answers to these questions that I have.

"What were you really doing out in the plains?"

Link glances over towards me as I move towards a chair by the fire as well. He says, "I told that I was following some barons."

"Yes, I am aware that you did tell me that," I tell him flatly. "However, I do not feel that I believe that," I admit and his eyes do not leave my gaze for what feels an eternity. He stares back into the fire.

"Why did you call me here?" he asks suddenly.

Almost startled, I say, "I have a very big favor to ask of you."

"What is that?"

"I have been thinking," I sigh. "Thinking about lots of things and they keep turning and turning. Thinking a lot about why I have not been or felt like myself in a long time especially. I kept turning this over and over when finally the thought occurred that it is very likely that my husband has been poisoning me."

This shakes him. Link stares at me, completely shocked. "Poisoned you?"

"When I fell ill, he took that as a chance to act, because since I was not actively moving in the picture, I was still there. If I am still here, he still has power and control, but if I am in a position where I can do nothing to defy him, he gains more power because there is no one to oppose him."

"So he poisons you to keep you out of the way?"

"Yes. Now here is the favor I need. I need you to buy all the supplies to provide for me and prepare all my food and drinks," I say. Then after a pause, I think to tell him this, "Actually, it would be better to make sure that you do this as well. No more sneaking into the kitchens for loaves of bread or scraps of seafood." He blushes a little at my knowledge of that. "My husband knows that I confide in you, therefore, he might try something now on you as well. He will have no qualms about taking you out permanently if it means hurting me and setting me back a step in plans. If he is not completely sure that I am plotting against him, he must be at least assuming that I am and taking steps as we speak to hold me off."

"Until I depart, I can go down to the market?" he asks.

I nod. "You must, but you must also be in disguise."

"What if people still notice that it is me leaving?"

"I thought of that, and there is still the possibility of you being suspected even in disguise, but I do not dare for us to have our food and drink pass through another's hands."

His brow furrows as he thinks this over. "What will you do while I am gone?"

"I have to put my trust in someone else, that is actually something else I was hoping you would assist me in," I say. I pause, and then ask, "Are you sad?"

He says, "Assist you? In what way? Finding someone to replace me?"

"I cannot trust the nobles or any of the servants myself. The nobles can talk faster than fools can if it is in their favor, so word may get to my husband and that must not happen. I also do not know the servants very well, and it would be very queer if I had audience with any of them besides you," I inform him. "You did not answer me."

"I think I may know one person you can trust," he says immediately. "There is a girl about our age, she runs a ranch just outside of town and delivers milk and eggs and other supplies from the ranch to town to be sold at the market and the castle."

"What is her name?" I ask.

"Malon. She makes a delivery once a week."

"Once a week? That should be fine, since that way even if she is bringing extra supplies in, a week's worth of it for us should not be looked into too carefully. She will also likely be ignored by the nobles."

"I think you may be safe with her while I am gone."

I push, "You still have yet to answer me."

He looks at over at me and says, "Yes, I am sad. I have been so for a very long time."

"What kind of access is she granted into the castle?" I ask abruptly.

"I am not quite sure. I can find out however, she is due to arrive the day after tomorrow, if you can wait that long," he answers, but does not wonder aloud why I had asked him such a question earlier.

"Right now, we must. Until then, are you able to sneak to the market and back?"

"I can go out with some of the servants in morning to get us a couple of meals, and I promise to be better about it than when I left before," he assures me.

I smile at him. "La! my dear Lumière, what would I ever do without you?" I ask him.

Surprise spreads over his face, and then he laughs, "You have not called me 'la Lumière' in what seems like years, if it has been. I, too, have been losing track of time it seems."

I am now laughing gaily as well. "I suppose then that there must be light at the end for us?"

He smiles wide and la Lumière tells me, "We can only hope, right?"

The silence between us is, for the first time years, truly companionable and comfortable. This silence makes me feel as if there never really was a wall that was built up between us as things slowly turned sour over the years. This silence makes us young and carefree again, timeless almost. Here we are, closer than we have been in years and it seems that all the worries and fear that just presented itself to us has suddenly washed away.

Link quickly whips over at me, and I glance almost lazily in his direction. It is almost humorous how easily we have seemed to fall back into an old routine. He says, "Madame, would you like to hear one last most interesting story before I am to depart from you for a time?"

"What kind of story?" I inquire.

"A true story, I think you would enjoy," he insists.

"Well, if you are going to surprise me, I may as well let you," I chuckle, suddenly aware how golden his hair looks in the fire light. Where have days like this gone?

He straightens up in the chair and begins, "Long ago, deep within the thickest forest of the land lied a village. It was not just any village, but one in which magic hung in the air as naturally as fish swim in the stream. The village was made up of children who never aged and each was blessed with a fairy but one.

"Now this boy who did not have a fairy to be his companion was made to be a target for a bully. The boy was friendly enough with the other children, but the boy who bullied him did so out of jealousy."

"Jealousy?" I ask aloud of this twist. "I would think the boy without a fairy would be the one jealous."

"Oh, the boy envied all the other children and at night he felt very lonely that he did not have a fairy companion of his own, but he found companionship with another child in the village. She was always very friendly, open and charismatic, and the bully had a sweet spot for her. You see, he was jealous she was not friends with him like she was with the boy who did not have a fairy.

"So the bully made it hard on the boy and taunted him every chance he got. The boy would get infuriated with him, but his friend always reminded him that it is always better to keep a level head and to not sink to the bully's level.

"The boy followed his friend's advice as the days wore on. He grew bigger and taller than the rest of the children, and none of them really took notice, even though they were not growing. As he grew, the great spirit that resided over the forest and their little village grew old and frail as well.

"It was this spirit that had forbidden the children to ever leave the village, threatening them that they would die, for the forest was vast and there were many twists and turns in which they could be lost forever in. But one day, the great tree called for the boy without a fairy and confessed to him.

"The great tree told him that he did not belong in this village and that as a mere infant the boy was brought to the tree by a haunted and dying woman. The great tree had since allowed the boy a place in the village as his mother's dying wish, but it was his time to go as it was the great tree's time to go.

"The boy saw that the tree was dying, and cried out for the great tree, but the tree assured him that he would live on if the boy left the village, taking with him a seed from the tree.

" 'Plant the seed that thy take from me in a place where I may flourish once again,' the great tree said, granting the boy a seed. The boy replied to the great tree, saying that he could not think of any place in the world more suited than the village, and the great tree smiled down on him wisely, saying, 'Then make it so.'

"The boy stayed with the great tree, sleeping in the crook of its giant roots until the tree's life had drained away. The boy took the seed from the tree which he had been given and with the help of the other children, planted it in the middle of the village.

"The bully however, claimed he was not to be fooled and wildly pronounced the boy without a fairy to be the great tree's murderer and that the seed would not sprout. However, the boy's friend stepped in between to confront his bully. She chastised that there was no reason for him to kill such a spirit, and the boy had cared greatly for the tree otherwise he would not have stayed with the great tree until its death nor plant its seed in the forest so it may sprout again.

"The idea of it, the very sound of it, 'so it may sprout again' gave hope throughout the village children. They watched and waited patiently for the new great tree to come forth from the ground.

"Once the seed had been planted and he saw that it sprouted, the boy did as the tree told him and left the village, leaving behind the only family he knew. He promised that one day he would return, just as the great tree would return with this new sprout. Yet his friend lamented his departure greatly, as did the rest of the village. Even his bully was saddened by it, apologizing to the boy before he passed through the village and out to the beyond.

"The boy wandered in the great and vast forest for days trying to find and reach the end to something new, if there was such a thing, and one day he came across a cave.

"Curious, he went daringly into the cave only to find that the further he went the darker and blacker it became until he could no longer find where he had entered. Scared and alone, the boy continued to push forth, when he saw a light ahead and hurried towards it, believing it to be an exit.

"To the boy's surprising delight, he saw that it was not an exit but a fairy. The fairy perked up when she saw the boy and begged him to help her. One of her wings had been trapped under a rock and she could not move it. The boy obliged and lifted the rock off of the fairy.

"The fairy was quite grateful that the boy had helped her and was awed at his courage to come into the cave. To reward him, the fairy promised to aid the boy wherever he went just as he aided her, and she led him to the exit of the long cave.

"When the boy and his newfound fairy friend came into the light at the end of the cave, he found that they had come out into a mountain from which you could see other villages, and fields and the even the forest sprawled out before it. Thrilled, the boy ran down the mountain, the fairy at his side."


	11. The Death of Darunia

-In the Fool's Court-

The Death of Darunia

These past couple days have blurred together. So many things, important and unimportant are falling in place. The sun is hanging so low in the sky now that it is not even visible over the bustling town below, which should slowly close up shop now in order to meet the dark. I can see the sun's last light from my window though, and the rainbow that follows it.

I feel something odd in the pit of my stomach, but I think it is only hunger. Link should be bringing me dinner soon, and hopefully news of this girl Malon he knows. It is a start, but I cannot wait for news from Impa, who has so long been vacant in my life.

I did not really feel all that sad when Impa left me. It is like that of when a child leaves home for the first time. I missed her though - I am not that callous as to not - and at nights I would lay awake with the pain that she was no longer around the corner. I think deep down, I always knew Impa would leave one day when she felt her duty was done. Yet there is the comfort of knowing the pact her people had made with the Hylian royal family made it so she is always near.

Impa was my childhood though, and Link is my adulthood. Both are so alike, and both are so very different.

I am sad now. I will lose, even if just for a short time, my last anchor. Maybe that is why I also did not feel great sorrow when Impa decided to leave. I still had Link. Now I will have neither soon, and I can only hope that I will have both again.

Hope- that is not what this feeling in my stomach is. Something else is wrong. I can see, even from the castle, the streets of the market and town by the castle are alive and moving. This is not right, not when the night is practically upon us.

I quickly hurry out of my chambers and down the corridor, checking rooms in the my wing as I go by. The ladies are not anywhere in sight, and even the servants are not lurking around.

There is a clank from ahead.

Armor.

I rush forward, hauling up my skirts

(you _dare_ show your ankles?)

as I hurry. I can feel my chest trying to expand for breath, by my corset

(this loathsome fashion)

will not allow this. I cannot stop though, not when there is something so terribly wrong. What has my husband done this time?

"Your Majesty!"

I whip around to find two armed guards. I drop my skirts and shout to them, my breathing labored, "What is happening?"

"Milady, we must get you to safety."

"What is going on?"

"We are under attack."

"By whom?"

"Heretics, Your Majesty," the guard tells me. "They have come for the Goron patriarch."

Heretics? Are there really any heretics? Is this all real or one monstrous lie my husband has conceived and spun into everyone's mind?

"My fool," I say. "My fool, Link - do you know where he is?"

"Your fool?" one asks, almost stupidly.

The other, whom has done most of the talking, nudges him and says, "The queen's own fool, you dolt. That blonde who is always in the kitchens."

Irritated, I ask shortly, "Have you seen him?"

"Not today, no."

I push past them despite their objections. I have to find him. Where could he be? There are the kitchens, the gardens, the servants' quarters... Can I really only think of three places? This is horrible.

The beat of my shoes echoes through the hall as I hurry towards more clanking armor. It is so hard to breathe with this ridiculous corset on. I have to stop to catch my breath. As soon as I stop, I hear foot falls coming towards me again. I quickly hide behind a tapestry, feeling quite childish as I do so as if I were playing a game of hide and seek.

"Wait!"

My heart stops.

"Your Majesty, please come out."

I hesitate, but slide myself out from behind the tapestry. "It was not a very good place to begin with, was it?" I ask foolishly.

"If I did not see the tips of your shoes poking out just slightly from underneath nor saw you dash behind there, I think I would have gone right past you."

I giggle a little.

Is this really a heretic? Just a simple Goron as this?

"Well, since we have the pleasure of meeting at such a wretched time, may I ask who you are? You obviously know who I am."

His chest puffs up a little, and the young Goron tells me, "My name is Darunia, I am the son of Darbus."

"Darunia?" I ask surprised. "Well, you most certainly must not be the same Darunia as the great Goron patriarch."

He smiles a little at me and says, "No, I am not. However, I am named after him." "Have you all come to save him?"

"Yes."

My brow furrows. "Then why are you having such a civil conversation with me and not trying something else?"

"What? Such as murder you?"

"I would think so. My husband has made such a mess of things."

He rubs the back of his head. He has the most unruly hair, and I see that he is just old enough to have a beard spotting his chin. He says to me, "What reason do I have? I hardly think any of this would be of your fault if you are running around your own castle in such hysterics."

"I am afraid I do not even know what is really going on."

"Precisely. However, you honestly just strike me as such a different note."

I smile at him. "Darunia, there is no helping your patriarch. Please gather your brothers and take cover back at Death Mountain. I was actually about to send a messenger in my stead in a few days, but I am no longer sure if that will happen. I cannot even find him."

"I might be of help, I have seen many men as I have passed through here. Who were you looking for?"

"I was looking for my fool. His name is Link. He is fairly tall, blond hair. He might be wearing a green tunic, it is his favorite color."

"Well, Your Majesty, you are in such luck. I think I might have saw him rushing towards the gardens after the soldiers. I was hiding behind some barrels in a storage by the gardens when he looked over and spotted me. He had the most piercing dark blue eyes in the torch light."

I gasp, a smile stretching wide across my face and wrinkling my cheeks. "Yes! That must be him!

"Darunia, I was going to send him to see your father. I did not want him to think that my husband is my friend in this."

"I see."

"Please give my regards to your father, Darbus."

He nods. "I shall do so," he promises, a fat fist striking his chest. "I will also inform him of your readiness for friendship."

I bow a little to him. "Thank you, I am much obliged. Now please hurry and be safe as you go."

The Goron curls up his massive size in a ball and rolled past me.

I hurry down the corridors to the gardens, all the while weaving my way past guards and soldiers. There are shouts coming from outside as I hear more soldiers clank ahead. They are burning buildings, I can smell the smoke and see the orange light filter through the windows.

I head down a tight staircase winding down from a tower and push through the door. Here is the storage the young Darunia had told me about. I rush out the other exit and into the path to the gardens. I can hear castle guards and soldiers shouting orders at one another, and I hurry towards their sound.

"Zelda!"

I whip myself around and see Link hobbling towards me. His left leg is bright red. "Your leg," I say aloud, shocked.

"Just a scratch," he says, brushing it off.

"That is not just a scratch," I fight. I grab his arm and pull us into the safety of some bushes.

He shakes his head at me, his chest heaving. "No time for that. We have to leave," he coughs.

"But Darunia? What has happened with Darunia?" I whisper to him. Armor clanks by.

"They took him into the gardens somewhere," he quietly informs me, distracted and panicked. He insists, "Zelda, it is awful. We have to go."

"I met the younger Darunia," I say. "He is Darbus' son. I told him I did not know whether or not I would be able to send you to the Gorons."

"Oh, you shall send me alright," he says, his eyes wild, "and I will take you with me."

"What-!" I nearly shout, but his hand is quick and he slaps it right over my mouth.

Link glances hastily around before saying, "Madame, keep in mind, we must be quiet."

"Fine, but we must find Darunia at least," I tell him. I motion for him to follow me and we begin to crawl through the dirt and bushes.

"Milady, you said it yourself," Link calls from behind, "there is no saving Darunia."

"I know, but I just have to know."

"That hardly makes sense, Madame."

"I know."

We avoid the chaos by crawling through the plants and bushes until we reached the center of the gardens. We did not dare look up or anywhere, but what lied ahead of us. I peek through the bushes and see no one. I turn my head to the right and look down the little path, the one and only, to the little island and there is nothing. Nothing at all.

We see nothing, but in the sound there is so much dissonant noise. Shouts of orders, cries of pain, the clank of armor and the scraping of metal. All this noise is so surreal, so queer and so seemingly misplaced, I feel as though I must be an anachronism of an era of serenity. Somewhere, someone is shouting that the Gorons are retreating, and I thank all that is mighty for young Darunia heeding my words, but the clanking and the shouts do not cease.

"Zelda," Link tells me quietly.

I look over my shoulder at him. I do not think I have ever seen him cry, but here he is, his eyes watering. "What?"

"Look up."

I do so.

My hands clasp to my chest as I feel the horror well up in me. I can scarcely breathe as my eyes widen and my throat shuts tight. My jaw is slack.

They are hanging from balconies, from rafters, from windows. Light from fires outside the gardens light them up and yet I still cannot believe what I am seeing. Link taps my shoulder and points over to an area across from us, and there he is, the patriarch Darunia. He has about half a dozen soldiers wrestling with him and several more following behind in suit. My husband stands there as well with that wretched duke and cardinal at his side by a block surrounded by grass so dark and shiny. A man I have never seen before waits patiently with them, leaning on his large axe.

"Hurry him up. We need to get after the ones that are fleeing," my husband spits.

The soldiers finally push him down on the block, and I finally feel that I am mobilized.

I clamp my eyes shut and stuff my face into Link's breast. I feel his hand on the back of my head and his other arm reach across my back just as the air is swiftly cut and a deafening _thump_ sounds. Link shudders a little under my weight.

* * *

So um... HEEEEEY. Haha, I think I gots this. In my head at least. My memory of what I wanted originally out of this is very vague and I have to say this is completely different where I'm going now. But there is an end I'm working to, and there are also certain events and places I want to go to with Link and Zelda, I just need to figure out what order is best. Yuppers. THERE IS LIGHT AT THE END!

Anyway, I re-wrote the first chapter. I did it, even though I bitched and moaned about how I wasn't going to do it. So I think with the next update the first three will be reposted as well. I mean, man, the third chapter is almost godawful.

Yeah. Well, I'll see you guys latuuuur. Oh, and THOUGHTS. Mucho appreciated. I love your messages. They tickle me pink.


	12. North

- In the Fool's Court -

North

We ended up crawling out of the underground sewer systems north of the castle and fleeing across the fields in Lanayru Province. Together, Link and I walk along side of the river, leaving a terrible fate behind us. In the far distance behind us where we do not dare look back on, we know that the castle and town are suffering. The town was torched and the sky behind us lit alight.

Link whispers to me comfortingly as we follow the river. He does not follow behind me, but he walks with me. The warmth of his arm linking across my back and his hand on my arm seep through me and I feel as if I am shielded.

But then Link suddenly stops. He glances over at me. His arm drops and he turns back. "Should we go to the Gorons?" he asks quietly. "We are going in the wrong direction if so."

"It is best for right now if we do not," I say. "I do not know if troops will try to storm up the mountain."

"To the Zoras, then?"

I nod. "Yes, let us get to them before Husband does," I tell him and we continue on.

For the next week and a half we travel at night by foot across Lanaryu Province and hiding out in caves or high patches of grass by day. We had nothing to eat but wild berries and a few stray fish and river water to drink, and the toll it was taking on us was showing as we pathetically climbed up a hill.

Link whines, "If you had not taken me in, Madame, I would not have adjusted to such fine meals."

"Hush," I chide as we reach the top of the hill.

"Eh!" Link is looking off in the distance. "Look! Milady, do you see that?"

I stumble up next to him and I see what he sees. There is a little farm not far off from us. Smoke swirls lightly up into the moonlight from the chimney. A cow moos softly over the field and there is a chuckle of cuccos.

"They have cuccos," I say wistfully. I hear a low growl and gurgle sound as I fall to my knees on the ground.

Link snickers a little. "It would seem as if my stomach hears them quite well too." He pats his stomach. "Do you think they might give us a bed and some food?" he asks aloud, falling to the ground.

I frown a little. I scan the fields around us and of course all is quiet. Nothing out of the ordinary. I shiver a little as a cold breeze passes through. I say, "I would not try." I tug a little on my dress. "Look at our clothing! It is so fine, albeit ruined from our travels."

"It will not be as if they will know who we are."

I nod a little. "True, but think. Link, if they have word about what has happened at the castle, do you not think they will be suspicious of two travelers so well dressed, but yet no horse and carriage and better yet, no place to sleep and nothing to eat?"

"We were robbed," he suggests exasperated.

I sigh, "Link." He grunts. I say, "We just cannot take chances."

"Fine, then we shall just have to steal a cucco or two."

"What?" I shout. I am shocked at his suggestion. "Are you mad, sir?"

He rolls over to look at me on the grass. "Nope," he says simply. "I am exhausted, as I am sure you are as well, and I am famished. We have an opportunity and honestly, right now I feel as if it would be abhorrent to pass it up."

Unsure, I gaze down at the little cottage and farm.

"What if they are awake?" I suddenly blurt. "What if they see us? What will they do? What if they attack us? Or what if they recognize us?" I ask all of this so fast, I am a little surprised Link catches it all.

"Look, we have not really had anything sufficient to eat in over a week now. There are cucco over there. Meat!"

Reluctantly, I say, "Alright then."

As quietly as we can, we hurry down the hillside towards the farm. We slow down as we get closer and Link suddenly drops to his hands and knees.

"What are you doing?" I whisper.

He turns back towards me and puts a finger to his lips. I drop down on all fours as he begins to crawl up towards the house. He crawls up under a window. I follow and then sit upright against the cottage next to him. We sit like this for a few minutes before Link turns around and looks up into the window.

He sits back down and says lightly, "They are all asleep. The fire just was not put out to keep them warm." He crawls away from me and I quickly follow behind. We cross through a patch of pumpkins towards where the animals are kept. He stops and points as we reach the coop. On the side of the cottage, which we could not see from the top of the hill, a line of rope shakes a little in the wind, laundry flapping with it.

"Go grab us some clothes," he tells me.

"You have gone mad!" I whisper fiercely. "We are already stealing their cuccos!"

"Yet you worry about people seeing us in fine clothing?"

I grumble a little but does as he says and head towards the wash line. I can hear the blood pumping in my ears. My heart is pounding in my chest and the thought briefly whips through my mind that they can hear it. Shakily, I get up on my feet. I cannot remember the last time I was so nervous.

I look over at Link and I see him fiddling with something over by the stables. I am about to open my mouth and call over to him, but quickly catch myself and shut my mouth tight.

I step forward, the grass crunching under my feet, fearing the family inside the cottage will hear. Another foot down. The green ghost floating in front of me taunts me slightly. I glance back at the cottage and see the fire roaring inside. Shaking, I take down the green tunic from the line. I take the white linen shirt and pants next. I look over my shoulder at the house again before taking a dark blue dress as well.

Link motions for my to get back up against the house. I do as he tells me and watch as he heads into the cucco coop, metal glinting in his hand. A crow from a cucco is cut short and I flinch. Then a second, and then there is just the normal clucking from the coop. He crawls out of the coop holding two cuccos in his hand and metal in the other. His tunic is bloody and the white cuccos have turned red as well.

He studies the cottage before heading back into the pumpkin patch. He looks over a few of the pumpkins before selecting one. His back is to me. He turns back towards me holding a pumpkin in one arm and the two dead cuccos in his other hand. I see the metal in his belt now under the moonlight as he comes towards me, crouched low.

He tickles my ear. "Grab me some wood and a few sticks."

I set the clothes on the ground and go over to the wood pile. I pick up a few logs a couple of sticks and stuff it under his arm, grimacing at the cuccos in his hand.

He leans in again and whispers to my ear, "Follow me."

We hurry away from the cottage and I look back on it guiltily. What would they think when they rise in the morning and find their clothing missing and that some of their cucco are dead and missing?

"Zelda," he calls and I snap back.

After a safe distance, Link starts to pick up his pace and run. I trip a little over my skirts but manage to keep up fairly well, although I am no longer in step with him. We do not stop until we are over hill after hill and the cottage is no where in sight. Not even the soft smoke is visible anymore.

Link drops the wood on the ground, tosses the cuccos aside and sets the pumpkin down. I stand feeling a little useless holding the clothes. I have no idea what to do as he leaves me and walks down towards the river. He comes back and shows me a couple of stones. "Put down the clothes," he says flatly, shoving the stones in his pocket, "and help me pull up this grass."

We weed through the grass, upturning roots and clots of dirt. I start to wheeze a little as Link pulls up more grass. "Give me a minute. This corset has been such a burden and restraint." I uselessly wipe my dirty hands on my dress. Link looks up at me, before stomping to his feet and walking over to the river side. He crouches down for a minute as I catch my breath before walking over to me.

"What were you doing?"

"Washing my hands," he says as he walks behind me. Link's knees crack a little. He pushes my long hair over my shoulder and tugs at my back. There is a slight _pop_ as he pulls at the fabric. "Will you loosen it?" I ask as I am jerked a little.

"What do you think I am doing?"

"Ruining my dress further."

And he laughs.

I hear the lacing smack the back of my corset and suddenly, my whole torso feels lighter. Free.

"Thank you."

He walks around me and starts working at the ground again. It takes a while but we finally get a large patch of dirt and Link throws the logs on top. He unbuckles his tunic and pulls it off. He struggles a little but finally the fabric gives and he tears a piece off. He grabs a little of the grass and puts them on the logs as well.

I fall back in the grass as he pulls out the rocks and starts to work. I close my eyes, oblivious to everything until he calls me. "Zelda." I moan a little and open my eyes. "I got the fire going," he says. "We can use our old clothes to keep it going." I sit up and he walks over, orange from the firelight and blue from the moon. "Here," he says, holding out the dress I took. "Put it on."

My face hot, I glance around and there is nothing but grass. I snatch the dress from his hand and get up walk a little ways off from the fire pit to the river. I suddenly feel a wave of foolishness, and I look back and see him hunched over by the fire preparing the cuccos.

I shake my filthy dress off and toss it aside before shaking off my undergarments and shoes. I shiver once again as a breeze blows through. I wade into the river. It has only been about two weeks since I last bathed, but I feel the need to purge myself of our escape from the castle. I lie floating naked in the water, my golden locks pooling around me. I turn my head back toward the fire pit and see the cuccos have now be stuffed onto the sticks I took and the sticks shoved into the ground.

With the cucco cooking underway, Link rises throwing his undershirt off as he approaches the river. "I might catch a cold," I say as he sits down to take his boots off. A smile pops out on his face and he throws his pants off. I float along the river as he swims over to me.

I hear the water splash the surface as he rolls over. He grabs me by my upper arms and pulls me toward him. We lay floating in the water, my ear against his cheek and vice versa, staring up at the moon. His hands do not leave my arms.

"I was not really following any baron," he says suddenly. I have the instinct to turn toward him, but instead I accidently bump his head as I momentarily forget our heads are cradled in each other's neck and shoulder.

I giggle a little. "Sorry," I say. "I had the feeling that you were doing no such thing."

"It would have been nice to have gone on a hunting trip," he says.

"If you were not sneaking around some barons, what were you really doing?"

"Well," he begins and hesitates. "Well, I was actually going to train."

"Train?"

"With a sword."

"A sword?"

"A sword."

"How are you with a sword?"

"Now that is just a trap for me, milady," he scoffs.

I giggle again. "How so?"

"If I say that I am fairly proficient, I might seem quite conceited. This is especially true if I am in all truth, not all skilled. But I could also say that I am not doing so well at the moment, but trying my best, I could seem modest or just a total fool."

"How is the latter a worse answer than the former?"

"Too open ended."

I say, "I feel queer."

"Why?"

"I stole things like little candies when I was a child, but I have never stolen something that is a part of someone's livelihood. It just feels so awful."

"It is what people do to survive."

"I suppose," I resign.

"When do you think we will reach the Zoras?" he asks.

"It is much faster on horseback, isn't it?"

"That and we only travel while awake." He asks me, "What do you think your husband is doing?"

"Cursing me," I answered automatically. I start to giggle all over again.

Link chuckles a little too. "He would probably kill me if he saw us like this."

My only reply is my stifled laughter. Link lets go of my arms and my head is no longer cradled in the crook of his neck as he floats away. I roll upright and turn around. He is still lying on his back enjoying the night sky.

"Link," I start tentatively. "Did you steal a knife from the farm?"

"Yes."

"I see," I say simply. "Why were you training?"

He laughs a little to himself at this before saying, "You know I always wanted to be a knight, not some court fool."

I pull myself out of the water. I sit down on the grass and fold myself up. "You are too witty."

"Do you think my children will ever be as witty?" he wonders. "I think we would have the most fantastic debates... That is, if they do not agree with me."

"Children are never going to always agree with their parents, especially as they come of age."

"Yes, I should take you as a fine example," he laughs from the water and I rise and wade back in. I thrust my arms under the surface and swing them back up, splashing a big wave over him. He gurgles and coughs a little before his laughter soars over the river.

"Who was training you?" I ask, sitting back down at the water's edge.

Link, who is finally standing upright in the water, looks over at me. "A man named Smith. He lives just outside of Kakariko village. He is actually a blacksmith though."

"A blacksmith teaching you how to wield a sword? I should like to meet him."

"He told me once that there was no point in creating swords if he did not know how to wield one. He mostly makes tools and such though," he tells me as he climbs out of the river and heads up to the fire pit with his boots in tow. I follow him, picking up my undergarments and new dress as I go.

We sit naked at the fire across from each other, waiting for the cuccos to finish cooking. He shakes his shaggy hair a little and ties it back. He turns the cuccos a little, and I run my fingers through my hair to get the tangles out. "I wish they would hurry up," he sighs, turning the cuccos again before getting up and putting on the pants I had stolen of the laundry line.

I wiggle myself back in my clothing. "Link, could you tie this for me?" I ask and he ties up my corset.

"Too loose?" he asks.

"Hardly. They call loose what you loosened earlier," I say, and he laughs. "I feel like we are young and stupid again."

"This is nice," he agrees and plops himself next to me.

"Yes," I agree.

"What would be even more fantastic is if we could west somewhere."

"West?"

He looks over at me and I see a light in his eye that I have not seen in years. "Why not? We go west through the desert and we would be in Termina and getting married at the Carnival of Time in no time flat."

I laugh. "I would be quite the bigot though."

"Shh," he tells me, and I look around us. "If you do not say it, no one will know."

"You fool!" I say. "I thought my heart would stop!" I start laughing and cannot stop. "I thought you saw someone."

"We quite utterly alone until we reach the Zoras, I am afraid."

"Then we should enjoy the cuccos while we can."

He snorts. "I took a pumpkin too."

"The Carnival of Time sounds exciting," I dream. "You know, I say, we could go through the eastern mountains if you still feel a yearning for the sea."

"Oh?" He smiles. "A mighty adventure over the great sea, you say?"

"Yes, and we can build our very own Red Lion."

"Milady, you are hardly scrawny enough to be my first mate," he tells me snootily and takes the cuccos off the fire.

I pull the dress I stole off the ground, and I wiggle into it. "Who says that I am not scrawny enough?" I challenge. "It is you whose ribs I can see poking out." He chuckles. I pat the dress smooth and it fits a little loose around my waist but it is better than nothing at all. Just as the cuccos are better than nothing.

"We could go to Holodrum," he throws out.

"Labrynna."

"Or, if we take our adventure out to the great sea, we could do an island?"

"Do you have one in mind?" I ask.

"I hear Koholint and Outset are nice in the summer."

I smile, enjoying myself and his company once more in what feels like years. Our meeting in my chambers when he told me the story of a great tree seemed like ages away from us, even if it really was not that long ago. "I miss this," I say.

"I do not know about you, but could we have a wedding on a beach?" he asks.

"Your cucco is getting cold," I inform him.

"You sound like my mother, dear," he says and takes a bite out of his cucco. "You are right though. It is a shame we did not have to flee the castle and run off sooner."

Laughing, I say, "You mean like what-? five years too late?"

"Something like that."

I look down at the cucco and ask, "Did you ever hate me for that?"

"You have duties, and so do I. My duty is to only entertain you, not make you my mistress."

"I am not sure if you have looked around, but I do not think the duty you claim for yourself is valid. Although you are fulfilling it quite well still."

"I only regret not pushing Agahnim out myself."

"You regret it?" I ask. "I am married to the bastard. If any, I have the bigger regret in his case."

We fall silent for a minute before he asks, "Does this mean a 'no' to the beach wedding?"

* * *

This one was a bit hard to get started, but once I got it rolling, it rolled. Haha. Anyway, I rolled on through and finished rewriting the first three chapters. The third one is the most changed of the three. The ending's even more so confusing, but hey, your narrator is unreliable at that point. I think it all ties into each other now a lot better with that third chapter linking what wrote four years ago and what I wrote at the beginning of this year. Although I am getting a bit frustrated trying to remember how old Link and Zelda are. Too much math.

My cat's eating my hair.


	13. Flight Once More

- In the Fool's Court -

Flight Once More

Link and I finally see an end when the river forks in the distance. Exhausted, we are still overwhelmingly excited to see that we are close to the Zoras. We lay by the bank soaking in afternoon sun and resting. The valley is calm, and its air is sweet and heavily pregnant with the scent of fragrant flowers just blooming. A bird screeches from above and flies off in a flurry, but we pay no mind, Link and I.

I scratch my arm; it lights itself on fire. "What is this?" I whine.

"You are so pale," Link chuckles. "You are not used to the sun, Zelda, so it scorches you."

"Link?"

He grunts softly in response.

"You keep calling me 'Zelda'."

He rolls off his stomach and onto his back. Link stretches a little before folding his arms behind his head. I move onto my side, my head cradled into my hand. He says, "It is a pretty name."

I chuckle some. "You only called me by name essentially in urgency before. I was always 'Madame', 'milady', 'Your Highness', or even 'Your Majesty'."

"I could say the same," he mumbles. "I am your 'la Lumière'."

I smile gently.

He says, "Here we are, enjoying the sun on a fine afternoon." His eyes fling open. "What of the rest of the country though? I wonder what Agahnim has done."

"My husband is a very despicable person." There is a pit of fury boiling in my stomach and a hole in my heart where the despair will not stop leaking in.

"Did he not come from the desert?"

"Yes."

"We should go there."

"I cannot say if that is a good idea or not," I admit. "We have to attend to the Zoras first."

Link rolls his head lazily over at me. His arms come out from under his head. In one moment I am still on my side in the grass, and the next I find that I am right next to him. His heart pounds away in my ear.

I close my eyes.

We do not rise again until late in the evening. As we reach the fork in the river, we come across a boat house and the one bridge over. We trek through the field and cross the boat house to the other side and continue up the river. The grass gives way to rock the higher we go. The river roars from up ahead and it gushes past us down the incline.

"I do not feel well," I say as Link pulls himself up a ledge.

He leans down and extends his arm to me. "We are almost to the base of the waterfall. Just ahead is the rock pool at the base." I grab his arm and he helps lift me up. He says, "Hang on a little more, we are almost there."

I chuckle. "You are forgetting we still need to climb the cliff."

"We can do it."

"Before we need to rest?"

"Rest can wait," he says firmly.

I smile. "Determined?"

"Most."

I follow Link around the pool. Mist swirls around us from the waterfall base. The water gurgles and howls. Fish break the surface, searching for a bite to eat. Link scrambles up another ledge and helps me up as keese flutter above us.

As we continue our climb, the desperation within me that I felt earlier in the day wells up inside again. Something is not right, and I know it. I do not dare voice my concern to Link, but my gut is telling me that the Zoras have met a terrible fate. My husband and his crusade have gotten to them long before we ever could have.

Half way up the cliff side, Link stops. He sits down and rests up against the rock. He rolls his head to the side and stares at me. "Sit down with me," he says.

"I thought we were going to rest when we made it to the top."

"Plans change," he states. "Something is wrong though."

I am a little taken aback. "Something is wrong? How do you know?" I ask.

He pats the ground, and hesitantly, I take a seat next to him. I am jerked some as he pulls me closer and says, "You know what it is." He asks, "It is the Zoras, right?"

I say, "Yes." His scent is musty yet airy from dirt and fresh air. I can even smell lingering flowers on his tunic. Feeling a little intoxicated, I say, "I fear something has happened to them. It would not be totally unreasonable to think my husband has gotten here first."

"If that is the case, we can take a passage out to the eastern mountains from here."

I nod. "We should probably do that no matter what lies ahead, just to stay out of the way." My brow knots. "How do you know so much about where we are going?" I ask, puzzled.

He chuckles some and a crooked smile stretches across his face. "I travelled much before I met you, and I snuck out often."

"Is that why, whenever I actually needed you, you were nowhere to be seen?"

"I was training with Smith," he shrugs. "He liked to go out to the mountains to dig for metals."

I chuckle. "I did not call on you sometimes though for weeks at a time." I poke a little at his tunic. I sigh. "I wish I knew as much as you. All I had was a map."

"Maps are quite helpful," he says, "but they are nothing like the real thing."

"Yes," I agree. "We should get moving."

Just as the dawn stretches over us, we reach the peak. My bones are so weary that I could simply melt right into the cliff as I lay face down in the grass. I hear Link step softly ahead of me. I moan into the dirt. Then there is silence from us. The breeze whispers gently to us over the water's heavenly roar.

"Zelda?" Link calls lightly to me.

"Why do you call me that?" I ask.

Link pauses for a moment. "It is your name," he states. "Right now, milady, are we not equals?"

"I suppose so," I sigh in agreement.

Link calls again. "Zelda?"

"What is it?"

"You told me once that you were not sure whether or not you believed in the Great Goddesses. Do you still hold yourself to that?"

Nayru, Din and Farore? I hardly think of them, let alone worship. I have mused to myself over and over if the legends and stories and tales were all true or false. There is nothing to say that they ever existed if they still do, and there is nothing to say that they never did exist. So what am I to believe? I am caught between a limbo of faiths just as I always have. It is possible my rational overshadows any sort of belief in supreme beings. They say that Din created our earth; they say Farore gave us life; they say Nayru gave us intellect. Why then, if they gave us such wonderful things, did they not leave a part of themselves behind?

Is it possible that they chose not to leave anything behind, as a way to test our strength- no, our wisdom, the very wisdom Nayru gave us? Could it be that even though I speak to Link, my face to the ground and dirt, that I also speak to the Great Golden Goddess, Din? Were Link and I truly fashioned in Farore's vision?

"I cannot say," I finally admit. "So yes, I believe I am still undecided in their existence. Why do you ask?"

Link is still. I then hear his footfalls come ever closer to me. "I ask, because I wonder if what I see is a test of our wills."

"I briefly considered that, just only in the sense of the Goddesses leaving nothing to verify their existence."

"Zelda," Link says quietly. "There is some red flowing from the mouth of the river."

I sit up. "What?"

"You cannot see it from here, walk with me further."

Dread eating at us, we follow the river to its source. I glance over and indeed, red flows through the river, diluted.

It is almost like we are walking in a haze as soon as I see the first traces. For a brief moment in time, everything stops, and I explore the idea that I am about to faint. Everything is lighter. Even the air is lighter. Everything is less real, less detached as I grapple with myself to stay with it.

But no, I am light. I am the one moving away. Everything else is in all actuality, heavy. It bears down on the rest with a fog as I am pulled away.

"Oh!"

It smells awful.

"... is it really her?"

"Does she know what that bastard did to her?"

"We have had no word from anywhere..."

Coppery?

"... believe me, please."

"She is gone-!"

Everything is mixing together. Am I really losing myself? Am I going mad? This is too much.

But I see her.

I have the need to purge myself.

"Zelda!"

The upheave, the taste!

"Oh dear, is Her Highness alright?"

Everything is white.

And I see her; I see her.

It is Princess Ruto. I smile, ready to greet her. She opens her arms to me in welcome, her elderly father and son at her side. Ruto glances down lovingly at her son, wrinkles of middle age pulling at her blue skin, beckoning for her son to bid me good day.

I have never really took notice of her age as she stepped further into her later years; her chaotic vitality is too refreshing for her to age. Her father, even though so old, holds to that same vitality within him. Even her son has matured, less like the child I knew who would throw rolls at dinner. His cheeks had begun to hollow out and a look of knowledge filled his youthful eyes.

Eager to greet them, I step forward.

We are swarmed.

Ruto's face contorts itself into the purest terror I have ever seen. Instinctively, Ruto pushes her son out of the way before the shadow falls over them. Horrified, he takes one last look at his mother before disappearing in the distant white.

The wind is knocked out of me; the inky black choking the very core of life out of me.

Then there is the red. It splatters everywhere. I glance down to find that it misses my shoes by a very hair. It splatters again. More red fills the black, but missing me. It splatters again, and I look up to see Ruto screaming, but completely mute.

Her father is gone. There is nothing left of his head but the splattered bits in the dark. The coppery smell is filling my nose.

In a split second, the regal Princess Ruto is gone. Her head rolls off to the side lazily.

"Zelda!"

I am shocked awake.

I cannot fully realize my surroundings. I stutter.

"We are still in Zora's Domain," Link informs me. His face is a mess of color, two blue spheres muddled in the center. "You were right though. Your husband has gotten here first."

"I know," I sputter, my world spinning back in order. "They know who I am as well." Link's features begin to take shape once more. His nose morphs back into being. The curve of his mouth defines itself once again. Long, messy blond bangs sharpen and I can see individual strands flying away. Link's newly re-defined face hardens a little as I say, "The Zora King is dead. Bludgeoned. Princess Ruto's been beheaded."

Link rounds on me sharply, "How did you know?"

"I saw it," I say gently. Hesitantly, "If that makes sense."

"Not really," he sighs. "Zelda."

"Her son is missing."

Link nods. "They are worried. They cannot find him."

"He is safe," I assure. "I watched him go. Tell the Zoras to have faith in him. He will come back."

"I hope so," Link says. "They are wary of us though."

"I do not blame them," I tell him honestly. "However, that does confuse me as to their hospitality."

"I think they see something in you, too."

I study him. Link has gotten tan again from the sun, almost as tan as the day I met him. I am just red like a lobster.

I say, "When I met the younger Darunia, I think maybe the same happened. It is a little queer, is it not? Why do they not kill me right here?"

"Get some rest," Link insists. "We have to move soon."

And move we do. We parted with the Zoras with heavy knowledge and a few meals for the journey to weigh us down. We were also graciously given heavier outerwear when one of the Zoras heard we planned on heading through the mountains. Prepared for the harsh mountain trek, we began our decent. We trekked back the way we came and midway down the cliff side, we pulled off onto the path Link had pointed out before.

Cool, gentle winds blowing through soon gave way to biting cold as we made a new ascent. No longer did we run into patches of snow, but it became that we came across patches of grass. Then there were just tips of green blades defiantly breaking the surface.

The next few days are a nightmare as we hide out in caves at night, struggling to stay warm. As disgusted as I was, I slept next to Link under the skin of what I think was some sort of deer; I did not dare ask. He had found it mauled by wolfos the very first day and skinned it. Kindle and wood for fire was becoming scarce as we moved further into the mountain range.

Link is proving himself to be an exceptional navigator. We have no map at all, and yet so far, I have had this feeling of safety and confidence that he can lead us out. If I asked, he could tell me which direction we were headed with ease and point where places like Death Mountain and the castle would be in the distance. "It is the stars," Link says, "that allow us travel at night. The sun can guide in the day."

"The sun? How so?"

"It rises in the east and sets in the west," he shrugs.

Some nights I would be visited by the Zora princess, Ruto. I would wake, startled and disoriented, but my rational would win out. I would come to my senses and quickly check myself over to see if I had to begun to sweat, fear that I had itching at my mind. Of course, I did not sweat and to this, I was grateful. I would fall back asleep, no longer haunted by images of the deceased Princess Ruto, wake in the morning as if nothing happened and follow Link through the mountain once more.

"This is utter madness!" I holler over the wind, my boot catching in a snow drift. Link grabs for my arm. "We should have just followed the river back down!"

"And risk being found?" Link shouts back. "I thought you would do whatever you could to avoid that!"

"I thought I would!" I pout as we come up to a bridge. "Is that even safe?" I yell.

"Only way to get across!" And Link, by all that is mighty, lets go of my arm and grabs the rope railing. He steps cautiously onto the first plank, and then the second, and then the third.

I can feel my heart pumping in my throat as I look at the plank, the steep valley down below, and Link, now on the seventh plank. I grab ahold of the rope, place one foot on the first plank. My left foot follows to the second.

I think my heart just might burst.

Oh my-! What if I slip? What if one of the boards breaks underneath?

"Zelda!"

I look up.

"Zelda!" Link calls again. "Do not think, do not look down!"

Do not look down. Do not look down. Do not look down.

My feet step lightly, one plank and then the next. I slip a little and hold fast on the rope. The bridge shifts a little. Link is unaffected by it.

Left. Right. Left. Right. Left. Right.

Just keep walking.

Do not look down. Do not look down.

Zelda, for the love of all, woman, do not look down.


	14. Found

-In the Fool's Court-

Found

I am shaking all over as Link reaches out a hand to help across the final few planks of the bridge. The wind cuts at my face as I step onto the snowy ground. Link's hold on my wrist loosens, and he lets me go.

Snow swirls and nips at my face. My fingers and toes are numb, and I cannot shake the cold off of me. Link shifts the deer skin on his back and calls out over the howling wind, "Are you all right milady?"

"I think so," I shout back, "just freezing!"

"I believe I saw some smoke not far off," he replies. "If we can get there, maybe we might find shelter!"

"I am up for anything," I call out to his back. He glances back at me and laughs as I step into a snow drift. I pull my leg out of the heavy snow and stumble after him.

Link veers off toward the cliff side to a narrow path, and I hastily try to keep up with him. We carefully make our way around the cliff side; Link says, "Watch your step," as snow tumbles down. It takes a long while, but slowly, we make off the narrow path. I huddle a little further in my cloak as I watch Link slide down the slope. He hops up on his feet and whirls back to me.

"Zelda!" he hollers; he motions for me to follow suit. Feeling apprehensive, I glance upwards, but then I see what Link had seen. It is difficult to see it through the snow, but I see a dark cloud rising from just beyond the pass.

I look back down at Link, and as always, is patiently waiting for me. I count to three, and then slide down the slope. I land roughly on my bottom, and Link grabs me and pulls me up. As he lets go, I say to him, "I think I saw the smoke you were talking about."

"I hope it is smoke."

"Me too."

"Either way," Link says, "we have to hurry if we do not wish to freeze."

I say, "I think I am half-way there all ready."

We push through the blizzard, and with the devil's luck, see a dark mass through the snow and wind. Excited, I shout to Link, "I see it!" He only grabs onto my wrist and pulls me towards it. "It looks like a building!" I call.

I step forward and suddenly sink. I struggle some in the snow drift until Link grabs both of my arms and pulls me out. "Do not lose me now, milady!" he tells me. "We are almost there!"

As the mass comes closer in sight, I see that I am right - it is a building. A castle, in fact. We stumble over what must be steps hidden under the heavy blanket of snow and fall onto the large entry doors. Link and I feel the wood, just to make sure it is really there and that we were not just hallucinating.

Link grabs onto a heavy ring on the door and bangs it. He throws the ring onto the door over and over. I quickly grab the other and follow suit as Link screams over the wind's howl.

When no response is granted, Link calls to me, "Help me, we will try and open it ourselves!" He starts to dig out the door from the snow and I rush to help before the falling white flecks covers our work. We slowly sink further into our man-made ditch, little by little, and Link kicks some snow out of the way before telling me to help push. The small space of stone beneath our feet help provide some traction, but the door remains fast in its place.

Desperate, I grab hold of the knocker ring and slam it against the door.

But then we hear something.

It is muffled.

Soft under the wind.

The door creaks, but does not move.

I slam the knocker again.

The door beats back to us.

Stunned we fall back into the snow.

The stubborn door fights its maker as it is pulled open.

They rush out and pull us from the snow.

The servants brush snow off of us, others rush ahead down the corridor. We are lead down it, plush red carpet crushed beneath every step. Cold suits of armor line the corridor. It opens to a large foyers with two grand staircases flowing down from both sides. The castle's servants push the doors ahead and lead us into the room beyond.

We are suddenly engulfed in warmth from a fire raging in front of us. I collapse before it and Link slowly sits down. The fire's warmth wraps us in relief. The relief is so great, we hardly notice our host's entrance.

"Some dry clothes are being brought as we speak," he tells us. He sits down on the sofa to our side. "You look exhausted. Have you lost your minds to be out in such weather?"

"Have you lost yours as well to build such a mansion in such a place?" Link asks.

Our host chuckles. "I like the solitude... the privacy."

"It does not get much more lonely than this."

He smiles, and asks, "What is your name boy?"

"Link," he says simply.

"Got a surname?"

"Not one important enough."

"Fair enough," he nods. "And what of you, my most unlady-like friend?"

From the floor, I answer, "Zelda."

"Such a pretty name," he ponders. "Named after the queen were you?"

"Yes," I spout the lie.

Link asks, "Who might you be, sir who has lost his head?"

He laughs this time. "I, sir, am Lord Harkinian, madman."

I rise to sit and say abruptly, "I have heard your name before."

He scratches his beard and says, "I would not be surprised. My cousin is a duke serving at Hyrule Castle: Duke Onkled." Harkinian's nose scrunches in distaste, "I hear he has been giving the queen trouble. Quite the snake."

Link glances over at me. I clench my fists.

The duke...

He says, "You would speak ill of your own blood? Do you not favor him at all?"

"No law says I have to," Harkinian shrugs.

Daringly, Link asks, "Is it because he favors the king?"

Harkinian's face hardens some. "You are treading on some thin ice, my boy."

Link pushes forward, "If I liked the king any, I can assure you, we would not have landed on your floor."

Harkinian's eyebrow twitches. He says nothing, but stares us down.

Finally, he breaths in deep. "I do not like being fooled," he growls.

"Neither do I," Link says. "I am an honest man."

"Not honest enough to tell me your whole name."

"I do not consider myself important enough to impart such information," Link cuts. "I am a simple servant at Hyrule Castle."

"Are you now?"

"I am."

A servant suddenly burst into the room carrying clean clothing for us. Harkinian turns to him and says, "Get them cleaned up from their journey then send my boy Link to my study."

The man nods and starts to pull us away, but Link refuses. "Why just me?" he inquires.

"It seems as though you and I have some talk which does not concern a lady."

I blurt out, "You said yourself I was not lady-like at all."

He chuckles some. "True but-"

"She does not leave me," Link cuts in firmly.

Harkinian shrugs, unwilling to fight. "Very well."

We are lead off. The servant shows us to separate baths and says to us, "You might wish to hurry. The water was heated in the kitchens and is likely to grow cold fast. I shall send for more hot water in a few, however." He hands us new clothes and spins away on his heel.

"Friendly," I comment flatly. Link snorts a little and disappears.

The bath is a much welcomed hospitality as I wash the dirt from my skin and hair. I almost forget where I am, it is so comforting. What is not so comforting is the duke and his cousin. Duke Onkled. While I have never been one with names, Onkled most certainly snuck into my life like a snake.

The sweep of the door wakes me from my reverie as a maid pours more hot water into the basin. I thank her as she scurries out, taking my filthy clothes with. I quickly finish up and put on the simple clothing I was given.

Tentatively, I stepped out to the corridor. The servant who had lead us here was back. He sniffed a little impatiently as we waited in silence for Link to appear. When he did, the servant immediately turned and barked, "This way!"

We quickly shuffled after him, Link fussing some with his tunic. The servant shows us down the corridor and stops abruptly before a double door. He raps loudly on the wood before opening it, not even waiting for a response.

Link and I sidle in and the servant slams the door shut behind us. Harkinian sits in an armchair by the fire on the far side of the room. He leans forward and gestures us to sit on the sofa. "Have some tea," he says quietly.

We settle in on the sofa as Harkinian serves us. Softly, he says, "So tell me, my boy, what makes you speak so daringly?"

"I do not like Agahnim."

"May I ask you why?" he asks, staring into the fire.

"He is self-serving."

Harkinian leans back in chair. He rolls his head to look at Link. "I like to think of him as a fly."

"A fly?" I interject.

He slides a smile. "Indeed a fly. Sometimes I very briefly - very, very briefly - that he might be like a phoenix, but that is too much such a majestic creature to taint with the likes of him. A fly suits him.

"The king is the kind of man who is so despicable, yet is someone who spreads his filth quickly and easily - your 'self-serving', my boy - and no sooner than you get rid of him, does he spawn again. I, unfortunately, can see another Agahnim later when our bones have all turned to dust."

Link stares down into his tea cup. "Thank you for your hospitality."

"Yes, thank you," I reiterate.

Harkinian glows a little. "You are most welcome. I do not see too many guests living within the mountain peaks."

"Yes," I say. "We are most lucky that we found you."

"Where are you headed?"

"We- we were supposed to go to Kakariko," I stumble.

Link smoothes it over. "We had to flee north after the Gorons attacked the castle and ended up lost in the mountains after losing some others in our group."

Harkinian's mustache twitches. "I see," he says and takes a sip of his tea. "I suppose that I ought to let you get some rest. I shall have you shown to a couple rooms. To be continued?"

Link takes my cup and sets it down with his on the tray. "It would be our pleasure," he says.

"Lovely. Dinner then? Tomorrow," he suggests. "You may also meet my wife then."

"Yes," I say as we rise. "That sounds fantastic. We will take our leave then."

Harkinian opens the door for us, and calls for his servant. Our ever curt friend rushes to his master, and they exchange a few words before he sniffs at us. Link and I sneak a glance at each other, bemused by this man, and follow behind. Link begins making faces to the servant as we stride down the corridor and I do everything I can to contain myself.

We are shown to our rooms; I collapse on the bed inside. I pray silently to myself that my luck does not run out now. The duke is one to watch for, but Harkinian may be on my side. I cannot be sure; I do not know him; I cannot trust him. I only hope that I can. That I may be lucky enough for us to have some sort of working relationship.

Unwillingly, I pull myself off the bed and throw back the covers. A knock sounds on my door and I answer. A spare nightgown has been brought to me, and I thank the maid before shutting myself in. I practically throw my borrowed clothes off to put on the nightshift and slide into bed.

And it is the most amazing thing I have felt in a long while.

A chill runs deep within me from the cold sheets.

I breathe.

In.

Out.

In.

Out.

In.

One sheep.

Two sheep.

_"Cards are not exactly such a strange occurrence, Madame."_

Four.

Five.

The Jack is back. The King may have won once before, but the Jack will not have it.

I am unsure what hand is in play; the wild card could be anything, not that Jack cares.

In fact, while I may be surrounded by roses blooming under a most yellow sun, Jack shakes his head at me from within his frame.

"_What?_" I ask him.

The Jack begins to pull himself from the card. First an arm. Then the other. He throws his red hat on the ground and it turns green like the grass. He forces his blonde head out. Gripping the frame of the card, Jack tugs himself out of his container and tumbles out before me.

"_I am sorry,_" I say. "_But it is awfully hard to win with just you._"

"But you are not alone," he whispers. "There is you as well."

And it is true. My black and white gown is suited for none other than a queen; I am quite literally up to my collar in spades. Laughing and spinning in my new gown, I say, "So it is."

"Oh look," Jack says. "It is the King."

And the King sulks in. And the King looks just as sour as any. He shifts his club tunic, swords in hands and spits at Jack. He says, "What is this filth you flirt with?"

"Flirt?" I ask, still spinning. Spinning. Spinning. "I do not flirt."

"Harlot!" he screams. "You taint yourself and then act innocent?"

"I am sorry, but-"

Jack is putting hearts over my spades. He chuckles some, triumphantly as he pulls heart after heart off his tunic and places it on my gown.

The King lunges.

I throw my hand to my chest.

He stabs me.

The sword sticks in my hand, but there is no blood.

Jack has the King's card, and he slams it down. The King of Clubs lies face down on the grass, and yet I still am not bleeding.

Jack pulls the sword from my hand. He says, "See? You are fine, milady."

I pull my hand away, taking off a heart. "Why, indeed I am. Am I not?"

"No."

"_No?_"

"No," Jack says. And he thrusts the sword in my chest.

He rips it down to my stomach.

There is blood this time. So much blood.

I stumble backward.

I think for a moment that I have tripped, but I have not. I simply overstepped my place, and fell through my card.

I fall further and further from Jack from within my card.

He looks down on my from above.

There is nothing but the white.

I jump a little. Frightened, my eyes dart around in the dark, search for anything to solidify a true reality. I put my hand out to rise, but do not find myself pushing against the bed.

Whispering in the dark, I say, "I think you stabbed me."

I get a groan in response. "I stabbed you?" he chuckles. "You have the most interesting stories, maybe it is you who should be the fool."

I fall back and roll against him. "When did you sneak into my room, Link?"

"Obviously when you were sleeping," he says. "Honestly, milady, I sometimes wonder if you have any smarts at all." He slides an arm underneath and rolls over on top of me.

"Link?"

"What?" he says into the pillow.

Into his collarbone, I say, "I need to breathe."


	15. The Devil's Luck

-In the Fool's Court-

The Devil's Luck

"It is lovely to finally meet our most unexpected guests."

Link smiles and politely kisses her hand. He lets go and says, "It is much more lovely for us to have met our generous hosts."

Lady Harkinian giggles a little at Link's charm, and I smile some myself. She says, "Please, have a seat." She gestures to the table. Link pulls out a chair for her and myself before plopping himself next to me.

The food has been brought out and wine has been served before Lord Harkinian bursts through the door, completely enthused. "No, no!" he calls jollily as we start to rise. Link's face cracks some as Harkinian takes his seat and robustly asks, "What do have here for dinner?" His wife at his side, he motions for the servants to begin serving as she laughs a little.

With the first course underway, Harkinian has all our glasses filled again with wine and calls for a toast. "Tonight is a most blessed night!" he exclaims. "The storm outside has subsided, we have a couple of unexpected, but not unwelcome friends," he begins, "but I must say, I am most enthused about my future child. Here! here!" His wife's cheeks alight, but raises her glass with the rest of us as we offer our congratulations.

"Tell me my boy," Harkinian says, digging into his plate. "What is it you do at Hyrule Castle."

"I am a swordsman," Link puffs. Inwardly, I am reeling as Link slides me a secret, sly smile.

"Yet you have no sword with you?"

Link shrugs a little. "A lot of things have seemed to have gotten lost on this journey."

Harkinian chuckles at this. He says, "You know, there is a man who could forge you a new one in Kakariko. He goes by Smith, know of him?"

"I do actually."

"What is unfortunate, however, is that this castle lies closer to the desert than the base of Death Mountain."

Link nods. "I see," he resigns. "With no compass, we have completely gone in the wrong direction."

"Trade one good thing for another," I say.

The lord smiles at this. "Indeed," he concurs and sips at his wine. "You do not say much do you, my dear?"

Looking up from my plate, I respond, "Oh, I usually let Link speak for me; he has a lot of charisma." Link lurches a little, unnoticed by the lord and his wife. "He has a knack for spinning stories as well."

"Stories?" Lady Harkinian inquires.

Link nods, and I say, "There is not a story better told than by an adventurer."

Smugly, "I'm an 'adventurer' now, am I?" he says.

Harkinian laughs as I combat, "I suppose you can call this mess of a detour an 'adventure'."

"I would," he pronounces, and the lord and his lady are in fits. "Call it an 'unexpected holiday'."

"Holiday during times of political crises are the most enjoyable. I hear beaches in the desert are the best," I spit into my wine. Lady Harkinian puts her napkin to her mouth to stifle her laughter. "Sir?" I call to the servant standing by, "I believe I am in need of another glass if I am to continue to sit next to this 'adventurer'."

The Harkinians are most amused as Link retorts, "I have the very best navigation skills. You insult me to say otherwise."

"Oh! my knight in shinning armor! if you had any sense of direction in your skinny bones, we would be on the other side of the mountain range," I scoff, my wine glass newly filled. Link snorts into his wine as I say, "You are such a lanky man, it is a wonder that you do not fall over when you attempt to raise your sword."

Harkinian is roaring as his wife quietly interjects, "My! our guests have such wit!"

Settling down, her husband roars, "I agree! But! my boy!" He dabs a little at his eyes. "Please," he says gently, rubbing his round stomach, "I think we would all like to hear a story, especially one from someone with wits like yours."

A silence falls between us, strained with anticipation. Link stares down into his food thoughtfully for a spell as the candles lining the table flicker warmly, his thumb on the corner of his mouth. A smile stretches on his face and he shakes his head. He slams his hand down on the table.

"Very well," he says.

"Well you tell them about daringly, dashing pirates?" I tease.

He lets out a short laugh before saying, "No, no. I have a lady present." He gestures to Lady Harkinian. She smiles some. Her blond hair glowing in the candlelight and crystal eyes sparkling. "Now, if I was enjoying company with you and our dear host, if would be perfectly acceptable."

"At least _I_ can tell which way is up."

"Things seem to go south very fast with you," he says, feigning his exasperation and ruffling his golden flax of hair. Lady Harkinian giggles again from across the table, and Link clears his throat, his blue eyes flicking around the table.

"Actually, instead of pirates," he begins, "there is an interloper- a magician in a world of _reason_," he emphasizes and leans into me (to the amusement of our hosts). "The magician was brought to a castle by a man whose father, the king, died.

"The young prince, childishly, demanded of his sister to impart the secret that their father had confided to her on his deathbed. Stubborn to discretion, she absolutely refused to reveal what their dear father had entrusted to her.

"The prince was shaken with fury at the notion of not being trusted enough to have been told the secret, and he did everything within his power to get his sister to speak, but yet she held fast. She would not tell him what her father had trusted her with alone.

"So enters the magician. The prince had sought him out from within the kingdom and had the magician brought from yonder. The prince spilled his desires to the crafty interloper, and asked, even begged the magician to do something.

"The magician then demanded that he be brought to the young princess, and her elder brother did so, thus sealing their fates."

Link takes a sip of his wine.

"And with the devil's luck in hand, the magician casted a spell on the maiden. While she fell into a deep slumber, unable to be awakened, the magician had the very life drained out of him, and he fell to the floor, dead.

"Lamenting his foolishness, the young prince, now crowned king, had his sister brought to the highest tower in the castle to be locked away. She was placed in a bed made of gold with a silk sheet to cover her. The door was locked as the king turned away from her, and he then decreed that from that point on, that every daughter born into the royal family would be named after his poor sister in order to ensure that none that followed him would ever be so childish and foolish as he again.

"Many, many years passed since the tragedy, and the story was handed down from one to another. One boy heard this story over and over, fascinated by it. Thinking himself a sort of hero, he rashly declared that he would be the one to awake her. Others laughed at him, thinking him mad since the only one that could have ever brought her up from her sleep had dropped dead. They shook their heads, believing the curse was never to be lifted.

"The boy, determined to prove himself, took sword in hand and snuck into the royal castle."

"Was he fantasizing about how he would take the palace by storm all the while?" I asked. A string of chuckling arises from the table.

"Oh, of course!" Link says, smiling at me. I snicker and take a bite from my plate as he continues, "He crept through the castle until he reached the stairwell that wound its way up the the highest tower before triumphantly bounding up the stairs. And when he came to the top, he felt his heart drop as he realized that the door had been padlocked.

"Upon inspection, however, he realized that the lock had been rusted after the many years it hung. Unsheathing his sword, he bashed and pulled at the lock until its weakened metal finally gave way and clanged to the floor.

"Filled with anticipation, the boy gently pushed the door open. He could hardly move when he saw the figure wrapped in a silk sheet lying in the middle of the room. He awkwardly made his way over to the foretold princess and pulled away the sheet. He was utterly surprised when he found that the princess beneath it had not aged a day, even though she was put under the spell decades before.

"Stunned by her beauty, the boy did not move for a spell until the light from the moon stretched from the windows of the tower across her face. The boy leaned in to the princess and kissed her lips. Suddenly! her eyes fluttered open and the curse was lifted.

"The princess awoke from her heavy slumber."

I dress for bed later after dinner. The story Link told was a very different kind of story. It was strange that he would think of such a story.

I pull out the bed warmer and dump the coals into the fire. After placing the pan back on the wall, I climb into bed, the moonlight stretching over my bed. Loose snow from drifts swirl outside my window. There is not even a creak, just the wind outside blowing and the fire in the pit cracking.

I stare up at the dark ceiling until I hear the door creak just slightly. My covers pull back and my mattress starts to sink. Link sighs heavily next to me and then fumbles with the pillow.

We lie in silence on the bed for a while. His breathing is steady and even next to me. I can smell his scent drifting softly through the air.

He says, "You just had to make fun of my suggestion of getting married on the beach."

* * *

OH! Herrooo! Haha. Happy New Year's! A little short today, but I honestly want to save some of the real action for what's to come. Sorry, sorry, for the sparse update there between thirteen and fourteen. College... I'm almost done, 'kays? I will not be taking an insane amount of credits this coming semester and by the looks of my schedule and what I had to take off work to make college work, I have about two days a week where I can devote a nice chunk of time to homework. But who wants to do that? So I'm hoping to have more personal writing done this year.

Thanks again guys, for your reviews and your messages; keep sending them, they makes meh smile.

Oh, and: Maaaah boooi! What's for dinner?

I'm sorry. I had to. If you don't know. Yootoob!


	16. Sun and Moon

-In the Fool's Court-

Sun and Moon

"What made you think of it?"

"What?"

"The story. The one you told at dinner."

"You do not think it romantic?"

I giggle some in the dim light. "Lock the door."

"You just want me to keep the fire going."

"I was the one who heated this bed."

Link snickers and rises. He fumbles with the key in the shadow for a bit before the lock clicks in place. His black figure blots out the fire as he strides over to toss a few more logs into the pit. He quickly washes his hands clean in the basin by the fire and then flops back down next to me. The bed cries underneath briefly.

I loll my head toward him, and I ask him, "Would you wake me?"

He says, "Of course I will. Always. Even if we both forget."

"What?"

"Nothing." The silence creeps over us, but just as I am about to turn away for sleep, he says, "Do you think that we were made for each other?"

I am silent for a moment, unsure of how to answer. "I cannot say," I finally admit. "I do not think I am romantic enough to think that." He loops his arm in mine under the covers. He silently chuckles when I tell him, "It would be lovely if it were true."

"I think it is," he resigns simply.

We pause for a moment, the sound of our breathing rising and falling in waves. "This is how it should be," I say, rippling our rhythm, "the two of us together."

He laughs this time. "I do not think I can say the same," he whispers.

"Why?"

"It is like..." he trails, thinking. Pause. "It is like," he reiterates, "we are sun and moon."

The fire cracks.

"'Sun and moon'?" I inquire.

He turns his head to me, and bumps his forehead to mine. The tips of our noses are just barely out of reach, but they are so close as to entice the tangibility of one another. "Yes," he breathes. "Separate," he says, "but always together."

"One does not exist without the other."

His teeth gleam a little from the firelight as he smiles. "Exactly."

"I like that."

He pulls away, and the warmth of his presence escapes me with a breath. He resettles himself in the bed before reaching over and grabbing hold of my far arm, and he pulls me to him. I move in closer, resting my head on the center of his breast, and I can make out a beat. The pulse of his heart pushes and pulls within his chest; it is steady and comforting.

"Link?"

"Hm?" he sighs.

"You really are la Lumière."

"I would like to think myself not so jaded as you."

"I am jealous."

He puffs up some underneath my head and says, "Of course! I am quite the 'adventurer'!" I giggle as his chest sinks. "Do you really believe I am going to kill you?"

Confused, ask him, "What do you mean?"

"You said that you thought I stabbed you. Last night."

"Oh," I say, the memory fuzzy. "In a dream," I begin, trying to remember, but I cannot. "It had something to do with cards, I think."

"Cards?" he sniffs. "You have dreamed of cards before."

"It was not just a dream!" I suddenly insist, and Link is taken aback some. "The one before, I mean," I quickly cover. "I was reliving something in my dreams was all."

"Dreams tell us a lot," he says. "It is like they are the omnipotent narrators of our lives. They tell us things that we do not always recognize in a normal state of mind."

"I do not think you will murder me," I insist.

Shyly almost, he says, "I am not saying that."

I sit up.

Link does not look at me, but stares up at the ceiling. The way his eyes bore into it are not just in a way of thoughtfulness, but a knowing. They hold the weary knowing of age old experience, determined not to falter.

"What do you have dreams about?" I ask, softly this time.

He sucks in a deep breath. His brow knots. "Pigs."

"'_Pigs_'?" I spit in disbelief.

"Well," he falters, "not 'pigs'. 'Pig'. There is just one, I think." His lips purse to a thin line for a moment. "He comes back, and he comes back, no matter how many times I defeat him. I almost think when I wake, that it is destiny, this thing and I. He is not always a pig, he takes one human forms and names and he wakes and wakes and wakes, and sometimes! I am the one who wakes him." A desperate look in his eyes sneak in as they roll wildly towards me. He breathes, "I am the one who releases chaos onto the world."

I lay back down on the bed. I lean into him and kiss his cheek. "And you call me 'jaded'," I whisper in his ear. "It sounds a little like what Harkinian told us, about my husband that is. How he is a fly that will constantly reproduce his evil." Link nods in acknowledgement. Trying to comfort him, I say as I rub his chest, "That is just the way things work though."

"No," he spits, disgusted at the thought. "How can that be? What is the justification of destroying anything and everything that holds any sort of beauty? What is the point of filling the world with malice and greed? Why make it so... ugly?"

"It is just the way things work," I repeat. "The world needs to be ugly to be beautiful," I tell him. "We do not have light without darkness. They go hand in hand, to combat and to balance one another. We do not have land without water. We do not have life without death. We do not have sun without moon. Light and dark. A push and pull.

"If everything pushed one way, the balance is off. If everything pulled another, the balance is off."

"Who needs balance?" he puffs.

"Everything," I say gently. "We need the night to tell us to sleep. The sun to tell us to live. We need the land to settle, the water to survive. We need death to make new life possible."

"I will find you," he says suddenly.

"I am right here," I state.

He snorts, looping his around me from underneath. "No," he says. "I mean, I will find you in the next life."

"Will you now?" I challenge him.

"I will. I know I will," he tells me, determined. "Just as I will find the pig."

Curious, I ask him, "Is he like a shape-shifter?"

Link knits his brow. "I am not sure."

"How long do you think we can stay here?" I ask, suddenly changing the subject.

Link shrugs under my weight. "We might be able to get some news about the castle from Harkinian."

"We are in the middle of nowhere," I remind him.

"But," Link says, "his cousin is the duke. The duke that until recently just seemed to blend into the background."

"I believe Harkinian was correct in calling him a snake. I will not forget his name now."

"I will not either," Link promises me. He pauses for a moment before answering me, "We ought to stay put here until we find out exactly what is going on. It will do us no good to run if we are completely stupid of the situation."

"Then we might not make it to the Carnival of Time," I poke.

Link barks with laughter. "Glad to see you are finally coming around, milady," he says. "There is always next year if we do not make it."

"I wonder if Harkinian's child will be a boy or a girl."

"Boy or girl, either way, he chose a bad time to come into this world."

I say, "He certainly did."

I close my eyes. The beat of Link's heart is soothing. I can hear the wind being captured and then escaping the confines of Link's chest as he breathes. In. Out. In and out. I can even smell the lingering scent of dinner within his musky undershirt.

"I think I would like a boy," he says suddenly and I lift my head up.

"What?"

He tells me, "If I am to have a child, I would like to have a boy."

"Little boys tend to pee on the one who changes them."

He laughs at this. He says, "At least I would definitely never have to have any talks with him about it being that time of the month." I snort, trying to hold my laughter. He rubs my back. "That, and I would never have to worry about him running off with an idiot who likes to talk too much and carrying the idiot's bastard child."

"Do you think it is safe to go to the desert?"

"Probably not," he says, smiling. "We should go though."

"I am worried about it, though," I confess. "What if we do not find anything against my husband? What if we do not find anything that will help our cause? We will have wasted too much time."

"Do not fret over what has yet to come," he tells me calmly. Soothingly, "You worry too much too much of the time. Who knows? Maybe a trip to the desert is not needed." He pauses, then adds, "Unless of course we are fleeing the country to make you a bigot."

"I would rather have a son," I say. "At least he could do something, anything."

"Women are only good for making children."

I chuckle. "I wish it were not true." I wiggle out of his embrace. "I am a queen, yet I still have no valid opinion."

"Doing better than me," Link says.

"No one knows who exactly we are," I say. "Your word is worth more now." He flops over onto his stomach, jolting the bed. "We should find Impa after the desert, if we go."

Muffled by the pillow, Link says, "We should find a way to keep our conversations straight first." I grin. "We jump around too much."

"There is just too much to say though," I tell him, scratching his back. "I cannot stay on one thing."

"You have wanted to find Impa for a while now, however."

"Well, I could have sworn I was slowly being poisoned, which I admit, I still do not have proof of."

"Fair enough," Link says. "I would not put it past your husband to do something so despicable though, so I believe it." He scoots himself up next to me, his nose nuzzled into my ear. "Can you rest your mind long enough now for sleep?"

"No." I roll onto my side. "I still would like a boy," I say and he laughs.

In the morning we enjoy a very informal breakfast with the lord in his study. He chomps away at his bread, not caring as crumbs tumble from his mouth and onto his desk as he intently reads a letter. Harkinian reads, and reads, and then re-reads and re-reads his letter before shouting, "This is terrible!" His sudden outburst startles us; he tosses the bread aside and takes a sip from his goblet. "Terrible, terrible," he mutters.

"What has happened?" I ask him delicately.

"It is the queen!" he exclaims, suddenly bursting up from his chair. "She has gone missing!"

Link chokes some on his breakfast as Lord Harkinian frantically paces his study. "I beg your pardon?"

He shouts, "The queen is missing!"

"Oh dear!" I breathe.

"This is not good!" Harkinian panics. "Who is to stop that madman of a king?"

Link cracks, "I thought you were the one and only madman."

Harkinian stops and leans on his desk, a silent chuckle on the edge of his lips. He sniffs loudly. "You are a funny one, my boy," he says quietly. "But this is terrible. Did you know of this?"

We shake our heads. Link says for us both, "She was still safe and sound in Hyrule Castle when we left for Kakariko."

Harkinian bit his lip.

Link prods, "Is the letter from your cousin, milord?"

"Yes," he groans, taking a seat once more. "What is even worse is the bastard is set to marry one of the queen's cousins." My heart drops.

Link, his eyes round like marbles, says blankly to the room, "He is putting himself closer to the crown."

"Indeed," Harkinian says into his hands as he rubs his face. He pulls his hands away, and suddenly what seemed like a jovial, youthful lord had aged. He looked weary, the lines in his face deepening. His hair was a vibrant brown, but it betrayed the story his face told; it might as well belong to a much younger man. "I am sorry. You are but simple servants to the crown. I should not involve you in its politics."

"What if we wanted to be?" I ask.

Lord Harkinian smiles ruefully at me.

Link bites into his cheese.

Is it just me, or is the air in the room suddenly much heavier?

"I just..." Harkinian trails. He stares off at the ceiling for a bit before saying, "I just fear for my child."

"It is understandable. It is instinct," I say, patting his arm from across the desk. He suddenly moves it out from under my palm, and I move to retract my hand, but he grabs it. His grip is like a metal clamp, my fingers squeezed in it, turning red. Just as suddenly as he had grabbed it, he drops my hand. I pull it back, massaging the palm and knuckles. Link glances over at me.

"Do you have children?" Harkinian asks.

"No," we both answer.

He sighs. "You are both lucky," he says gently. His face softens, and his youth returns. "You do not have anything to fear for but your own well-being. There is only your future to be concerned for." Link turns his head down, sliding a look over at me, and I see the wistful smile on his face, the twinkle in that blue eye.

"Link," Harkinian calls, "got a wife?"

"No, milord."

"What about you, my fair lady?"

"I have no husband. He is dead," I say flatly, but I think Harkinian can see through my lie. My husband may be dead to me, but he is still breathing. Harkinian, however, is staring me down. His brow furrows; his eyes narrow a little. I think I am starting to feel sweat form at my hairline.

"I have the feeling that you two were not conveniently 'lost'." We stare blankly at the lord. He demands, "Were you?"

"We ran for our lives," Link admits. I shoot him a worried glance.

Harkinian shovels more of his breakfast down his throat and says, "I do not blame you."

We finish our breakfasts in silence, the weight of one letter bearing down on us.

Harkinian rises when we finish and instructs, "Just leave your plates on my desk. I have something for you. Follow me."

Link and I exchange confused and worried glances before hesitantly following the lord through his halls. Our footsteps echo off the walls in soft _thumps_. Cold draft bites a little at our skin as Harkinian leads us to a double door. He pulls from his pocket a ring of keys, and after carefully selecting one, the lord shoves it into the lock. The lock clicks, and the door groans as Harkinian pushes it open.

He motions us inside, and Link gently leads me in first. It is a weapon storage, an armory, right within the heart of Harkinian's castle. Unused cannons and their balls line one side of the armory. Swords lie on racks in aisles. There are spears, bows and arrows as well.

"A friend of the queen, is a friend of mine," Harkinian comments from behind us.

Link whirls around and scrutinizes Harkinian. "How long ago did you figure it out?" he asks gently.

"When you admitted that you ran for your lives in my study almost confirmed it, but your question certainly does the trick," he says lightly. Link just simply stares the lord down. "I had my suspicions before, however. I never imagined a queen would allow herself to get so dirty." He fingers some of the blades not in their sheaths, the tips of his fingers running along their lengths in an almost caressing way. He says, "I have seen you before, when you were much younger. Your eyes had a certain sparkle to them, and I thought, 'I hope my daughter is as lively and beautiful.'" His arm drops and he turns to me. "I was even there when you were born. It was a time when I was young and foolish, of course, but you have become such a striking woman."

Link interrupts Harkinian's thoughts, "You have something for us, correct?"

"Well," Harkinian says, smiling at us, "more for you, my boy." He waves us to follow once more and he leads us away from the swords to a cabinet in the corner. He unlocks it and pulls from it a box. Unlocking the box itself as well, Harkinian opens it to reveal three large precious stones: a ruby, a sapphire and an emerald, each encased in pure gold. "I came across these by chance long ago it feels, but recently, I have begun to think it was destiny."

"What do you mean?" I ask.

"Last I was within Castle Town, a large woman called out to me. I thought she was just one of those crackpot fortune tellers trying to make a rupee, but when you two showed up at my door, I had to believe otherwise," he sighs. "She said I would encounter a young swordsman and to give him three treasures to aid him."

"Honestly, I am not exactly a swordsman," Link admits. "I am the queen's own fool."

"You have snuck out from my service on many occasions to train," I remind him, not wanting to admit in front of Harkinian that I have not yet seen any proof of Link's skill with a sword. I had never even really seen him hold an actual weapon before.

"Your Highness," Harkinian says, "do you know what these stones are?"

"I am afraid that if I have ever encountered any information on them, I have forgotten it."

"They are the Spiritual Stones that will allow you full access to the Temple of Time. There is one more piece, however, and that I am unsure of." Harkinian motions to the rest of the room. "I wish to aid my queen's campaign, not her husband's. Take in hand any weapon here you see fit for your journey. It does no good to go out unarmed."

Link bows and I give Harkinian a curtsey. "Thank you," I tell him, appreciative of his gifts and hospitality.

He chuckles. "You two are so polite. Perfect little court players." He turns to Link, "What-ever you like, my boy, it is yours."

Link turns to me and asks suddenly, "Do you want to learn to shoot?"

"Me?" I am stunned that he would even think to offer.

"It really is a lot of fun," Link says quickly. "I think you would quite like it."

I glance over at the bows. "Right now?"

"Right now, if you wish it."

"Right now?" I repeat.

Link and Harkinian laugh. "Yes, right now. The wind outside has died down, why not take advantage of it?"

"It would be best if you learned a thing or two on how to defend yourself, milady." Harkinian says, "There is a courtyard you may practice in, if you do not mind standing in what is probably knee deep snow."

"That sounds fantastic actually," I say.

Link and Harkinian pull down and select a couple of bows. Link says to me, handing me a bow, "Grab that sack over there, the quiver." I do as he says and Harkinian fills it with arrows. Link pulls down one for himself and fills it.

"This way," Harkinian says, and he turns on his heel.

* * *

So I got a phone call the other day, from my college telling me literally the day before classes start that one of my classes (when I signed up for everything on day one of registration) is getting cancelled and good luck filling it. Fantastic huh? I found one luckily, so I get to keep my health insurance. Woo!

Mmm. I was thinking last week of this one story based off of Twilight where Zelda is a common slave, kind of like a little Cinderella that could, where Malon and Saria were her mistresses. Link was cursed to be a wolf if he ever ventured outside of the castle, Gannondorf turned him into one and controlled Hyrule. I can't find it. It's killing me now.

Well, anyway, I won't ramble any further. Thanks guys for all your reviews and messages again! Like I told one reviewer in a message, I like hearing from you guys, but just knowing that at least one person wants to read it makes me want to write it.


	17. The Desert is Less Forgiving

-In the Fool's Court-

The Desert is Less Forgiving

Link asks, "Are you sure this is right?"

"Yes," I answer. "We need to move. We cannot stay idle any longer."

Link reaches out a hand and presents a sugar cube to the clydesdale in the stall. The clydesdale sniffs suspiciously at the sugar, but quickly swipes it from Link's palm. Link chuckles some and flashes the young horse a smile. The clydesdale snorts. Link reaches over and rubs the horse's nose.

Glancing back over at me he asks, "Are you all right, milady?"

"Yes, I am fine," I lie. I am in all truths anything but at this point. I feel green. My stomach churns over again; fear flits through me that I shall vomit, but my stomach settles.

"You do not look fine." Link shifts the weight of a new sword and shield on his back.

"I am."

Link sneers at me, obviously knowing the truth, but instead of saying anything more to me, he turns his attention back to the clydesdale. "She is a beauty," he coos.

"She is yours," Harkinian says, entering the stable with two bags in hand. "Here is some food for your journey. I cannot in good conscience let my queen go hungry."

I smile. "Thank you."

"What do you mean, milord?" Link asks.

Setting the bags down, the lord says, "That horse is more stubborn than a mule. We bought her a while back to help move carriages in and out of the mountains, but she just hates everyone." He sighs, "No one can tame her, or at least I thought." He offers a hand, but the clydesdale just sniffs then snorts, moving closer to Link. "See? She likes you."

"Does she have a name?"

"No," Harkinian answers. He smiles at Link. "Find her a good one."

Link laughs. "I will," he promises, feeding the horse another sugar cube.

"Go easy on the treats now; you will spoil her," I tell him, resting a hand on his shoulder. The horse leans over the stall to meet me; she disapproves.

Link cracks up again. "It is fine, my pretty girl," he coos again, and as if understanding, the clydesdale leans forward and allows me to pet her. "You just have to ask nice," Link says triumphantly; Harkinian roars.

Harkinian says something to Link. His mustache twitches as he enunciates each word. Link laughs and responds. I cannot hold it in. I turn and hurry out into the cold and let loose. It wrenches me straight in the gut, as if I had taken a beating. I hold onto the outer wall of the stable for support. It is over as quickly as it started; my breathing is heavy and labored; I am shaking all over.

Link is here, dutifully by my side, as always. His hand is on my back. Worried, "Milady, you are not fine. Perhaps we ought to stay put until you are in better health."

"No," I insist. "We have to go. I feel fine now." And truthfully, I do. I feel as if I have just purged myself clean. "The stones," I say, "please put secure them on the horse."

"Right," he says softly. "As you wish." He turns on his heel and returns to the stable. I look behind me and see that Harkinian has replaced Link's figure in the doorway.

"What is it?" I ask, straightening.

"Let us go for a walk while Link finishes preparing for your departure."

Roughly, I say, "I am afraid that I do not feel up to it."

"You just said that you were fine, did you not?" he accuses, and he is right. Sighing in defeat, I take the arm he offers me and he leads us away from the stables. We walk the grounds in silence for a bit. "Do you know?" he asks me softly.

"Know what?"

"How far you are?"

"How far I am? From where?" I ask confused. "From Hyrule Castle? From Kakariko?"

"No, no." Harkinian shakes his head.

I stop. "I am sorry, but I do not follow."

"It is fine," the lord says. "Just take care of yourself, Your Highness."

"Please do not call me that."

He smiles, longingly almost, at me. "Just take care," he whispers.

I cannot comprehend what Harkinian wanted out of me on that walk and I continuously ponder it as we make our trek to the desert. No longer are we subject to the freezing cold, but the blistering sun has us cooking alive as we trudge through sand and dirt.

My stomach refuses to settle, so I am thankful when Link has us stop and set up camp for the night. The wretched sun may be gone, but it is replaced by the night that is just as taxing as the days in the mountains were.

"Who could live out here?" I moan. A wave rocks me inside.

Link chuckles as he pokes at the fire. "We are lucky," he says.

"What? To find wood?" I ask.

"Yes."

"I wonder what it was doing out here."

"Someone likely tried to build something out here, or was trying to transport something at least. Either way, we will not be so cold to-night." He prods at the fire a little more, and it sparks up in protest. "Are you sure you are all right?"

"Yes."

"Zelda." He is exasperated.

"I am quite all right." I have spoken too soon. The next thing I know, I am throwing up in my lap. Link sighs and pulls a spare rag from the horse. He tries to sop up the vomit, but it does not help with the stench that seeps itself deep into my nose. "Sorry," I whisper as he dabs at my face. "I must have caught something."

"Do not apologize to me," he says. "You ought to tell yourself sorry; it was your decision to go ahead and leave the mountains."

"I have to find out what is going on with the Gerudo," I say. "The Zoras and Gorons will of course be on my side."

"Your husband comes from the desert," Link comments.

"Yes," I say, "but he is not a Gerudo."

"You know this for sure?"

Link hands me a slice of bread as I say, "I do. A male is born into the Gerudo tribe only once every one hundred years. He has been born all ready, at least over a decade ago, I believe. Probably closer to two."

"Only one male every century?" Link ponders in disbelief.

"They regard him as their king."

"And what do you think of him?"

"I do not know."

"What the hell are we doing?" Link asks.

Truthfully, "I am not sure I have any idea anymore."

Link tosses the filthy rag aside. His knees pop and crack as he rises; he strolls over to the clydesdale and kisses her nose. He pulls from the back of the saddle the sleeping mat Harkinian provided for us. He throws it out next to the fire and shakes out a blanket. "Here, get some sleep," he says, sitting down by the mat. "I will stand watch." He pulls his new sword to him and rests it on his shoulder.

"You need sleep too," I say. "Besides, we have gone this long with out having to stand watch."

"Then we will take turns," he suggests. "You know how to use a bow."

"Just barely."

Link snickers. "You are actually fairly good at it. Do not fret. Get some sleep, you need it."

"But-"

He cuts me off, saying, "The desert poses more threats than the fields do. Here, we are in somewhat hostile territory and out in the open. There is nothing to conceal us."

Resigning from the fight, I curl up on the mat and pull the blanket over me. It is lonely almost, but I push the feeling aside and close my eyes.

"I think I have come up with a good name for the horse," Link says into the night.

I shift a little on the mat, bringing the blanket up higher. "What is it?" I ask.

He pauses, then says, "I like 'Epona'."

"Epona..."

"Yes."

"I like it too."

The fire cackles and pops. I snuggle a bit more up in the blanket. There is nothing but the sound of our breathing and the fire's wild laughter. While I worry some over Link, the steady in and out of breath from him is soothing.

One...

Two...

Three...

_CLANG_!

I bolt straight up, only to find myself face to face with an armed warrior, her saber to my throat. I cannot move. My heart begins to pump away wildly as I shake. Then she is just blown aside as Link rams his shield into her. She falls away, knocked out.

"GET UP!" Link shouts at me.

Epona whinnies near by. There is a grunt, and I look over just in time to see another woman fly backward from being kicked by the horse.

"Shit!" Metal screeches as Link tries to hold off yet another warrior. I quickly rush over to Epona and pull the bow and quiver from her saddle. The one who had been kicked begins to rise. I fumble with notching the bow as I back away from her. She lunges. The arrow flies. I did not even have time to take aim, but the arrow strikes her in the shoulder.

I glance over at Link; he is still engaged with his opponent.

I begin to notch another arrow.

A huge weight suddenly slams into me.

My head is pounding. I groan and go to move my arm. I cannot. Bound. Lovely. I look over to my side, and there is Link, staring upwards. I look up as well. Canvas. I look down, and indeed my feet are bound as well.

"What happened?" I ask.

"I am sorry," he whispers. "Gerudo," he says.

"Where are we?"

"Carriage." Speak of the devil; the carriage abruptly stops, and we slide forward a little bit. Link says, "They were kind enough to think to put our feet towards the front." He laughs uneasily.

Chatter flits into the carriage. The wood creaks, and the back end of the carriage sinks a little. Sunlight breaks into the inside, and it is almost blinding.

"Yeah, get them to the cells. They got anything?"

"A sword, shield, two bows and arrows, and that horse."

Epona snorts in the distance in distaste.

"A feisty one."

We are pulled out separately, and as I am carried off, I look up at the sky. It is so blue to-day. With fluffy clouds spotting it. One sort of even looks like a cat. The view disappears and all that is above me now is a hardened clay ceiling. The Gerudo throw us into a cell, together at least. The lock clicks in place, and without a word, the Gerudo walk away.

"I guess they do not care for the queen's campaign," Link says after they depart, squirming himself up against the wall.

I snort.

I quickly begin to try and work my hands out of the rope binding. "I would not bother, milady," Link says. "I tried to loosen yours in the cart, and the knots would not come undone."

"Lovely."

I scoot myself up next to Link and lay my head on his lap, not even bothering trying to pull myself up. We do not see anyone or anything but the walls, a crate and the iron gate keeping us in for what is probably been hours.

Link has dozed off some, but suddenly snaps his head up.

"What-"

"Shh!" he shushes.

Then, I hear it too. A little scraping. Coming from the right...? A jingle! I look up at Link, and his eyes are intently staring off into the right corner. I follow his gaze back. There is a crate in the way.

I gasp as a head suddenly pops up from behind it.

"So it is true," the girl says. She pulls herself out from behind the crate. Her eyes are a miraculous golden hue. She cannot be any older than ten. "I heard they caught some Hylians. I did not think it was true. What are your names?"

"Link and Zelda," Link answers for us.

"Oh?" the girl pipes, intrigued. I glance up at Link, and he shoots me a quick, understanding look. I pull myself up from his lap.

Link asks, entertaining her, "And what might your name be?"

"Me? I am Nabooru," she says proudly.

I ask, "How old are you Nabooru?"

She answers, "Seven."

"Nabooru," he says, "would mind answering some questions?"

"Depends," she teases. "They were right about you being kind of handsome."

Link glosses over her comments. "Do you know who the King of Hyrule is?"

She tilts her head. "The king?" she ponders. "Agnahim?"

"Close," I say. "It-"

"No!" she shouts. "I know it!"

"Then what is it?" Link taunts.

"Agahnim!"

"Good." Link smiles. "Do you know him?"

"He used to live here," she says. "I think he wanted to learn magic, but Koume and Kotake would not teach him. Instead, they sent him east for something."

"Like a mission?" I ask her, faking my enthusiasm.

"Yes!" she says excitedly. "I want to go on a mission, but they keep saying I am too young!"

"Who are Koume and Kotake?" Link asks. "Are they your mothers?"

"Most certainly not!" Nabooru declares, stomping her foot. Link hides a smirk. "They dote too much on Ganondorf."

"It does not sound like Ganondorf really deserves all the attention," Link prods.

She shakes her head. "It is all because he was born a boy," she pouts.

"What will you do about it?" I ask.

"I am going to become the best thief to have ever come from the Gerudo tribe!"

"I bet you cannot steal my horse," Link says.

She cocks her head to one side again. "Your horse?" she says in disbelief. "We already stole your horse."

"Yeah, your comrades did, in a group I might add, but not you by yourself. You ought to show them up," Link challenges her. "Steal my horse from them. She is mighty feisty with strangers; she does not come when called like a dog."

Her brow furrows. "You just want your stuff back," she accuses.

"What good is a horse if we are tied up?"

"Not to mention," I say, "he did not mention that you bring back our weapons, or a key to the cell."

Her lower lip sticks out as she mulls over Link's challenge. She suddenly spouts, "I can get the horse! And I bet I can steal all your other stuff for myself too!"

"Oh?" Link says. "How will we know you stole all our stuff for yourself?"

She pauses. "I do not know."

"How about this," Link begins, "get a key and let us out. You do not have to untie our hands, just our feet so we can walk."

"I cannot let you out," she says.

Link raises his eyebrows. "But then we will not know what great a thief you are."

"You would be too clumsy," she defends. "You would make too much noise and mess everything up!"

"But that is part of the challenge of having a crew, right?"

"A crew?"

"Sure." Link flashes her a smile. "You can keep it all, I swear."

"You will give me a kiss too?" she asks.

This surprises Link, and I try to stifle a laugh. He quickly recovers. "Of course," he says.

"Think of how jealous the other girls will be," I say.

"I know," she says triumphantly and disappears.

* * *

A little shorter than I would have liked, but saving the action. I re-posted an old fic, which why this took a little longer to get up. Sorry. I could not STAND to let it just be left like that. It was too terrible.

Anyway, everything is sort beginning to really fall where I want it in this story. More of the world will be explored, which I am excited for. Let me know what you guys think; any thoughts about where you think it's headed and any criticisms, other nitpicks, anything. It's getting really close to the point of no return on the path I have laid out for it. Sort of a little anxious about getting to it and tanking, and anxious just to really get everything out.

By the way, for some reason I've been seeing on a lot of like German Zelda wikis that Koume and Kotake are referred to as "Killa Omahz" and Twinrova, my personal favorite: "Sexy Thermo Hexy". I was like, "The fuck is this?" Ridiculous, yes? Funny? Oh hell yes.


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